


The Seal

by alpha_huntress



Series: Defiers of Fate [1]
Category: Valkyrie Profile Series
Genre: F/M, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Rebirth, Reincarnation, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 04:58:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 68,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12162003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpha_huntress/pseuds/alpha_huntress
Summary: A necessary evil for the gods, unforgivable in the eyes of the mortal who loved her, to seal away her existence as the mortal – Astridr.





	1. First Sight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lotornomiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotornomiko/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN VALKYRIE PROFILE - THAT 'Honor' belongs to others! However, If I DID (which I just said I don't) Brahms and Silmeria would be together canonically, as they should be! :D 
> 
> [This Disclaimer shall be considered canon for all future chapters!]
> 
> A/N: This is an optional reading/prequel for an upcoming fan fiction in my workshop. I will caution you that the story is chronological order but not completely linear. It skips around and most of these chapters are "memories" portrayed as flashbacks. The writing typed in italics is the point of the view from the divines – respectively Odin and Freya – as they create the memory seal. It gives insight as to what emotions they are taking care to seal and why it is necessary in their belief.

_"Lenneth has been placed to rest, Silmeria is ready to be awakened. Shall we proceed?"_

_"The Seal?"_

_"If it is truly necessary I will see it done."_

_"See to it, Freya."_

_"Yes, Lord Odin."_

_That it came to this was truly tragic, the Valkyries shared existence with mortals in such a way that they'd be able to understand "man". The necessary evil of such a construct, the memory seal, was testament to the fact that they were TOO successful in this aim. It was never intended that their judgments were so negatively affected to such a degree by their past selves. Silmeria and Lenneth, had exhibited too many close calls during their previous tenures as Valkyrie leading Odin to consider this final option, his last resort, to correct the distortion that their mortal lives placed upon their divine souls._

_It is necessary…_

_Her resolve came so easily, she would do anything for Lord Odin, even when it came to so repulsive a deed as manipulating one's mind. She placed her hands upon Silmeria's mind. The id, the emotional side, was strongest inside Silmeria's mind. This had had never been done before, so it was imperative that the seal resist the pressures of the memories it restrained, held back. She could not remove their memories, only suppress them. The first decade of Silmeria's life as Astridr passed, followed by the next two years. Finally a stubborn memory stood out from its singular resistance causing Freya to place all her efforts on dissecting the memory, to weaken its presence. Although these memories were Silmeria's they were also the memories of a mortal woman. A mortal mind could not last forever against the likes of a goddess - once weakened, it would yield!_

* * *

She felt like a stranger to her own self, swathed as she was in this priceless and beautiful confection of silk, presentable in the eyes of her father.

"But presentable for what?"

"A match, of course," her sister supplied, her answer startling Astridr because she had not expected one to be provided. A flush quickly crept into her cheeks, realization dawning that she had been blatantly talking aloud to herself without the presence of any particular audience. Nervously her blue eyes glanced around the surrounding area to see if any other had seen her inappropriate and altogether pointless exchange with herself. She was relieved to see that her sister of nine years didn't much pay attention or seem to notice, believing that the question had been directed at her person.

"Don't be foolish. I am much too young for that," surely she was. She gazed down at her almost flat bodice, feeling a new wave of shame and inferiority that altogether wasn't a new feeling in the least.. At thirteen years of age she should have had developed, grown, as a female. Her form was slight and small, her bosom nearly flat-chested, and her hips too small to be ideal of child-bearing. In other words she had been proclaimed as being altogether unsuitable as a female, receiving a prescription of failure for her future as the wife of any man.

Over the course of years she had hoped that more growth might be forthcoming. It was humiliating but her sister, her younger sister, at nine years of age had done enough of a growth for the both of them. Already her sibling had a pleasing, angular hourglass curve to her hips and the promise of a pleasing growth in the chest area. Already there was many whispers that Ingrid was clearly blessed by the fertility gods to be gifted with such generous endowment, such flawless beauty. Astridr had to admit she was utterly mortified to face the idea that despite being the elder she would likely be overlooked by suitors in favor of Ingrid, "I don't believe that Father is ready for that kind of commitment for either of us, we both have so much growing to do."

"Why else would father take such time and expense into our image? If not to present us to prospects?"

For lack of a better argument to refute her sister's assumptions she realized that there was likely no other reason. They were not grown up yet but that didn't mean her sire, her father wouldn't be prepared, wouldn't have his eye settled on their future. The thought sent a shiver through her though she wasn't sure if it was from anxiousness or anticipation. Her lips could only form into a nervous smile wishing she could altogether avoid the spectacle of this evening's celebrations.

'Oh stop looking so glum, tonight is no doubt going to be the start of something new, some wonderful. You won't attract notice if your face is soured over with an unfavorable expression. What do we have to lose?"

Astridr couldn't hold it back, her mind was never the sanctuary she wished it to be, protecting her from herself or her reality. Inside, her mind counteracted in stoic silence as she scrutinized her sister.

_What do I have to gain?_

Ultimately her silent resistance was for naught as her sister had a remarkably simple time of bringing her, dragging her by her hand to the staircase before hastily bounding down it with as much grace as she could muster. Although Astridr desired to be absent she didn't dare shame her father by delaying or failing to make an appearance. She placed a delicate pale hand on the cold marble stair-railing, satisfied that she didn't see a shake in her hand, knowing that the cool course surface had been a shock in temperature. If there was one thing she could pride herself in it was poise. Her physical looks might be nothing to look, might not give her any sense of confidence, but she could feel confident in the way she moved. No matter the imperfections reflected in the eyes of others, her grace and gentility was flawless, her balance perfect. Each step was silent, purposeful as she descended. When she was sure in her step her eyes flickered upward slowly, rising in perfect unison beneath her delicate eye lashes only to meet the hard, raven depths of another.

The eyes were so intense that instantly they robbed her of her breath, her legs stilled in mid step as she surveyed whom they belonged to. A boy, for he couldn't yet be old enough to be a man, in fact she doubted he was yet her age. Perhaps nine or ten, he looked like he belonged to her sister's age group. Surely he realized that it was wrong to stare but he continued to and while he did she was transfixed in place, unable to move. She didn't understand that the reason for she did not move, for fear that it would break the fragile connection. Astridr did not understand why but she didn't ever want him to break his gaze from her. For the first time she felt…desired.

* * *

It was a shame that the guest hallway was so small, that he couldn't linger glancing up at her, whoever "her" was. Pale and perfect, small form and figure, but she was utterly…..there was an altogether ethereal air about her that stirred his blood. He had never cared about beauty or women for that matter, even though he KNEW he was required to marry a spouse and produce issue. However the one he saw in the hall, the delicate beauty with innate strength, she was the first one to tempt him to consider the change, just from one bewitching glance. Just when he thought he knew every noblewoman, sure that he had it figured out that every lady of blood were one and the same; he met one that was completely and utterly different, unique. The way her gaze had fallen upon him had been like that of a temptress however her surprise, her innocence had made it quite apparent that she was taken aback by his interest, she had no idea of her own appeal.

More guests poured into the ballroom as the chords were struck and the music began. Even at the tender age of nine he was expected to waltz and dance with as many youthful girls his age as possible which meant he could not idle for long without getting a stern gaze to get him to get a move on. To buy himself time he allowed his eyes to pour over the crowd as if trying to find a dancing partner. Little by little other boys thinned out the pickings until at last she was visible again. The enchantment was potent; she cast her spell anew every time he laid eyes upon her. This time however her eyes were not upon him but rather the glittering realm with its inhabitants stretched out before her. Without a doubt HE was determined to be her first dance of the evening. He folded a single arm behind his back and crossed the dance floor where room was provided, single-minded in his pursuit, his intentions towards her.

* * *

It was too much to expect that she'd have a bevy of gentlemen seeking her out for the purpose of dancing with her let alone making sure to dance her first dance. Astridr expected that sooner or later they would overlook everything and see her attractive enough to endure a few moments so as not to look utterly rude in their negligence. When she heard the calculated approach of footsteps she was sure that this was the first of many however the first dance was not yet done. Every one of the peerless youths and lords she beheld moments ago, they couldn't be done with their chosen partners. Her eyes followed the direction of the footsteps, coming to rest upon the same boy. Her eyes fell, averted so as not to be drawn to lengths of staring in shock.

"May I have your first dance?"

"T-the waltz is almost over."

"Then the next one, if I am not correct, it will still be your first dance."

"Yes, you are correct…young lor-."

"Vytis, my name is Vytis."

"Vytis," she forced out as she tried not to be shocked by his jump to familiarity, "I feel it only fair to warn you that I am not a very good dance partner."

"I find it difficult to believe that. From what I saw you in the guest hall you are light and graceful on your feet, and likely to avoid stepping unnecessarily on my toes which is more can I say for all the other gentlemen on the floor," before Astridr could bring any further objections forth he extended his hand outwards, proffering it for hers. Hardly a smooth manner to gain her acquiescence, if she didn't accept his hand than she rejected him and would appear completely and utterly rude, but what was to be lose from humoring him.

Astridr's cold hand slipped into his, his hand was warm, and larger than hers. The soft grip bringing warmth to her palms and fingers as his hand curled over the surface of her palm while her out onto the dance floor. As she had mentioned the waltz was almost over however he did know it and practiced it, dance to its conclusion flawlessly. No doubt his parents had taught him well how to hold his own in a domestic setting against other rivals, other suitors, when it came to interaction with the fairer sex.

"Am I that bad of a dancer?"

"No! You are fine…"

"But you'd rather not be here?"

Her eyes rose levelly to his in challenge, "Whether I want this, there is no question. My father wants me here and therefore I am."

"I do mean to imply disrespect but NONE of us would be here if our parents didn't expect it of us."

"What are you here for?"

"A wife, my parents didn't make it any secret, any mystery. I am here to find a bride."

It was not missed by him that such a response shook her, if a child of nine or ten was looking on the bridal market, than perhaps she really was old and expected to find, to attract a prospective match. Her persistent partner however seemed determined to continue to attempt to bring out, to coax conversation from here, "Where do you want to be?"

"Pardon?"

"You don't want to be here so where would you rather be?"

When she gave him silence for an answer, "You do realize that we are the only ones hearing this conversation right? The music, the dancing, you'd be lucky to overhear your soft tone of voice over the softest strain of waltz."

"I-I enjoy the outside."

"Do you? What do you enjoy doing out there?"

"…my interests are not suitable for a lady of my upbringing and breeding."

"With that vague comment you have just increased my interest tenfold. A lady who lives up to expectations is insipid, tedious at best, a lady who fails to live down those same expectations is sure to be exceptional…spell-binding."

"You don't mean that."

"I do! Please indulge me, answer my question."

"I-I appreciate archery and falconry but I am no longer allowed to partake of either…I don't see the point in speaking of it since…"

"Because you enjoyed it, did you train your own falcons?"

"O-of course! No one in the family or servants touched my huntress. Not once! Not until she was disposed of…my sister, she couldn't stand them, she finds animals to be dreadfully messy, deplorable creatures."

"Do you have an appreciation for horseflesh?"

"I appreciate riding."

"You are a marvel."

"I am plain."

"If any were smart enough to see past appearance than they would know that THAT assumption is wrong, you are unique and I hope that you will never allow that to die. Keep the flower of your 'self' unfading throughout time, until later, Amaranth."

She realized that he had led her off the dance floor, returning her to her Father's side. Before he departed he kissed her hand chastely but it seemed profoundly intimate. Her eyes could only follow him discreetly the rest of the evening, a fact that was not lost upon her father.

* * *

To endure the expectations of his own parents he continued to dance in turn with many youths including the "beauty" of Astridr's family – Ingrid. They were closer in age, the EXACT same age in fact, but he just could not manage to find common ground or summon the same brand of interest as he had in her elder sister. He was polite but their conversation; truthfully it was only sustained by the fact that Ingrid was more outspoken, more of a conversationalist than her elder sister. For the first time he realized there WAS a reason to prefer that one's wife be silent rather than verbally outspoken. Where he had taken Astridr through three complete waltzes before returning her to her Father's side, in comparison he only took Ingrid through one waltz. As he brought her back to her father and sister he noticed his own parents nearby. His mother came forward first, "We have come to pay our respects to our gracious host, making ourselves ready to depart. We will give you one last dance while we summon the carriage."

Without hesitation he proffered his hand again to Astridr who looked shocked, the elder sister had been helping her Father by leading her sister away to ready her for sleep. Astridr's father looked silent and severe yet he seemed amused, his eyes glanced at the elder daughter, "Go ahead, Mereit can help Ingrid settle down for the evening."

Astridr recovered from her surprise with grace, inclining her head in acquiescence, taking his hand. This time as he led her on the dance floor he didn't attempt to speak, leaving conversation to come between them only when instigated by her. He was young but it was not beneath him to take the time to admire her. He wasn't beneath manipulating the circumstances, to please his parents while pleasing himself. It was crazy to feel this way about a stranger, someone he'd just met, but she was the only girl who had remotely interested him.

The only requirement his parents had was that she be a lady of breeding, of bloodline and influence, Astridr had that. His only requirement was interest which Astridr also possessed. If he could help it he'd not be bound "until death we part" to an empty headed fawn or at worst, a grasping female. He had seen the worst of both extremes within his family through his own parents as well as his aunts and uncles. The manipulation he had done tonight was blatant but he believed that he had hit his mark, was sure that his parents WOULD act upon his "visible" preference and tender an offer of marriage to Astridr, to her father.

The only thing that ruined the evening was the fact that Astridr did not speak during the last dance they shared. He had hoped that he'd receive some kind of notice from her however she remained silent and speculative. Vytis pulled back, stepping back out of her personal space and placed a kiss upon her hand, placing generous space between them as he withdrew in silence though his mind did not withdraw from thought of her, he would remember her.

* * *

The moment he was in the carriage he felt as though he had been cornered with his parents sitting on one side of the carriage and himself alone on the other seat. His mother spoke first, she was the perfect kind of wife for the likes of his father, ambitious and dutiful, for her emotion was always the last to come, "We are content with what has happened this evening, you did very well."

Vytis wasn't going to turn up praise, it was a hard won sentiment that he rarely received in great amounts from either of his parents. He didn't dare ruin the good track record of their evening by daring to interrupt them. His father spoke next, "Tonight we will stay with your cousin and tomorrow we return. Tomorrow you will pledge yourself in troth to the eldest daughter, Lady Astridr."

"A charming girl, a good match," his mother substituted, "You seemed quite taken with her. She still has much growing to do but she'll be a suitable match: a faithful wife and a devoted duchess."

_Victory…_

Vytis smiled pleasantly, never daring to let them know what was truly on his mind. They were so predictable, so easy to manipulate, then again he'd learned from the best – them.

* * *

_Freya blinked, feeling nothing as she filed through the last of the memory, draining it of the emotional strength it relied upon._

_Hope…_


	2. Betrothal

_Freya did not have to gaze far to find the next source of resistance. She had peeled back the first memory to find an equally strong memory intertwined with it, supporting it. The second memory was close in proximity to the first, associated because it happened the morning after, not too long after. The appearance of that mortal, Vytis, had been a pivotal figure in Silmeria's human mind generating intense feelings. Her ravening probe dug deeply into the memory allowing it to be read as she tore its defenses apart._

* * *

Sleep came soundly to her the previous evening, so soundly that when she lifted the veil of her eyelids that they were greeted by golden strains of light trying to slip into the room through her drawn curtains. Although it was rare of her to sleep in late Astridr felt sluggish, slow to rise at first. Inevitably however she forced the covers back, feeling cool crisp temperature of the room through her thin nightshift as she rose, pushing her legs out from under her to support her on the floor. Instinctively hands quested, reaching out for her robe, curling it around her person. With the absence of a fire in the hearth of her room the beauty stepped forward using a single outstretched hand to pull back the fabric of her curtain to allow the sunlight to enter and filter throughout the chamber. At first the light was a shock, blinding her as she squinted but the reward for her action was a blooming warmth that made her hand reach to draw back the second curtain.

"My lady?'

Astridr turned to see Mereit, a woman who had been ever faithful to both herself and Ingrid. Mereit had originally been wet nurse to both to Astridr and Ingrid. Her mother had never been a woman of great health, possessing neither stamina nor endurance in great quantities. Both times when her mother had given birth the task had been rife with complications. At her birth it had been a delivery with nearly claimed her mother's life, it had left her so severely weak that Mereit had been hired to act as a surrogate mother for her needs. Ingrid's birth, however, had claimed her mother's life leaving the two young girls without a maternal figure to turn to. Mereit was the closest thing either one had to a mother. However, with both of them approaching adulthood Mereit was no longer a nurse or governess to them but rather, at best, a lady-in-waiting to them.

"Forgive me…I intended to wake you once I had prepared your bath. I didn't wish to disturb your rest, I expected that you would not rise of your own accord for some time after last evening."

"I am surprised I have slept as long as I have."

"It is well that you have risen, I was ordered to draw you a bath. Your father wishes you to join him for breakfast."

Silence was the only response she could give; the idea shocked her enough to make her suspicious. Even though she was an early riser, her father rose early in the morning before either she or Ingrid rose for morning repast. He was not one to indulge his daughters often with his presence. Dinnertime, the third meal of the day, was the only meal they shared with him and often the only time they interacted with their sire within their daily continuum.

"Why?"

"You know I am not told. Hurry on with your bath. It is wrong to make your father wait unnecessarily. I will lay out suitable garments; you must look your best."

She agreed, this was a rare treat? She would hardly call it that but it intrigued her nevertheless, intrigued her enough that she didn't want his first reaction to be disappointment.

The water of the bath was warm and normally Astridr would have taken full advantage of every moment she could linger in the heated miasma. In this case the water was scented with a rose scent that was almost potent enough to lure her back into a complacent doze. To prevent her from that she made the bath a business ordeal, in and out. Fingers sifted through her silken strands as her knuckles were ground into her scalp to do away with the itchy dead skin beneath the hair line. Finally, after feeling express satisfaction with her through scrubbing Astridr rinsed her hair out before rising out of the bath. Drying was a hastier ordeal, since the air was crisp and cool when it came into contact with her skin.

When she stepped back into her chamber, Mereit was gone but she had been true to her word. A dress was laid out waiting for her and a fire was burning with a healthy glow in her hearth casting warmth about the room. The dress was satin, dark purple satin with an empire waistline. The extravagance of the dress made her question anew the circumstances for such pageantry.

_I won't learn anything by dwelling on it here in silence, I only delay._

Although she had hastened her preparations to make herself ready and presentable it did not prevent the return of Mereit who finished dressing up her hair nor did it prevent her from being the last to descend to the breakfast table. Astridr felt a fresh wave of embarrassment at THAT. Ingrid was just horrid about rising from bed come sunrise; the fact that she could get down here before her more agreeable self meant she had truly taken just "too long". However, she wouldn't wait for her father to instruct her to take her seat. Her father was seated by himself at the head of the table, Ingrid was seated on her own to his left with her seat to his right, denoting her favored status as his eldest child – the heir.

The meal started in stagnant silence. Both children knew their Father was going to speak but not the matter of when he would choose to thus neither of them was willing to speak for fear of interrupting their father in the midst of verbal overture. Astridr carefully kept poking at the fluffy, yellow eggs on her plate only glancing over to see that her sister wasn't nearly as controlled, her glance darting upward between bites as if to make sure not to miss out on anything.

"Astridr, you appear pleasing."

She instantly swallowed her eggs while praying that in their partially chewed state, they'd go down the right column of her throat in her haste to offer adequate reply, "I-I am glad you think so, Father. I am so very sorry for my delayed appearance this morning, it is unlike…"

The eyes of her Father discontinued any further words, extinguishing them before she could finish articulating her justification. All attempts to do anything more than breathe ceased when he spoke once more, "Apologies are of no necessity in this instance. It is befitting that you should take great care with your appearance this morning and every moment hence since it is this morning that you have grown, you have been promised in troth, as wife. You should be pleasing to your husband when I present you and so you are."

"Since when?"

Astridr felt her eyes descend to a close as her chest contracted inward. Part of her felt apprehensive for her sister, even a child would not be allowed such an insolent question. Although truthfully she knew the crushing feeling in her chest was generated by nervousness. Yesterday when she had denied her sister's assumption she had known there was truth to Ingrid's expectations but when she had gone to sleep last night, she hadn't thought to see such thoughts realized. She felt so unprepared, she had been given away by her father so easily, so young, so incomplete. She was sure that her prospective husband would take one look at her uncomely appearance, no matter how she labored to appear the part of a woman she looked like a girl.

"It has been a decision that has taken considerable time to develop but it was decided upon last evening."

Although Astridr was loathe to join her sister's relentless questioning she couldn't keep from asking, "To whom?"

"The Young Lord of Lorraine, Vytis – the sole issue of the incumbent Duke."

"Duchess of Lorraine? But why her? I am closer to his age and much MORE suitable."

Had she not been questioning that point to herself in silence she would have rose her head to glower at her sister's insinuations.

_Why indeed?_

However, Ingrid had gone too far in their Father's eyes. His reply came out with edge, curt and matter-of-fact enough to allow no further challenge, ceasing all idle words, "She is the eldest, it is her right."

For the both of them his words hardly sufficed as a reason that put their reasoning to rest but the words had its desired effect. They finished their meal in peace without either daughter brooking resistance.

At the conclusion of their morning repast the awkward silence remained as both sisters retired to daily pursuits. Normally Astridr would enjoy a morning ride or frequent the mansion libraries but she rejected both. She knew that come arrival of her "spouse" that she'd be expected to be call upon at a moment's notice. The unspoken expectation for her was to somewhere the servants or her Father could easily summon her. To be delinquent would be unacceptable to her father, to her spouse, to his parents. She retired to her chamber, leaving herself to her silent recollections. Profound relief had swept through her as she realize whom her father gave her to.

_Vytis…_

He had to be about three or four years her junior and it went without saying that last night had probably been a deciding factor in the arrangement. Vytis, he had told her as much, he was expected to find a bride and she had looked like a suitable candidate at least. Astridr lifted her head, confident knowing that she held herself as being equal to her upbringing. She may not be the fairest in the land but she could be what she was expected to be.

_I am ready to be wife because I CAN fulfill the responsibilities of one._

Astridr realized that while she was nervous about the whole ordeal she was altogether pleased with the results. If last night proved to be any reminder that although they were young, they were close in age and shared many pastimes on the surface. Perhaps their union would even be fond as well as cordial. Such a match, to have such a relationship with one's spouse was virtually unheard of, not attempted, but for her it would be a perfect arrangement, something she could live with.

"My lady? Your intended approaches, your father calls."

"Alright, Mereit."

Astridr stepped over to her vanity making sure her appearance was suitable for guests to call upon her. Afterwards she left, abandoning her thoughts and uncertainties, resolving to prove worthy of the match she would receive this day.

* * *

The family was already lined up at the neck of the courtyard, it was the beginning arc of autumn meaning the air was cool; in addition to her gown she wore a matching lavender cloak that complimented her attire. It had been an expenditure that her father had endured in the eventuality that she'd be promised to marry, to impress a spouse or match. Vanity did not come easily to Astridr but it was not money wasted in this case because she truly felt lovely, beautiful! Ingrid stood in dutiful silence that possessed a sulky strain to it while her father, like her, stood in anxious wait for the approaching guests. Neither her sister nor her father had neglected their own appearance, nearly matching her in the grandeur of apparel they wore.

Before long a carriage and rider came into view, the carriage obviously held the Duke and Duchess themselves, her future parents by law but when the rider came close enough she realized it was Vytis, the young boy easily commanding his steed through his grip on the reins. The carriage came to a stop and instantly footmen, two of them, came to help Lord and Lady Lorraine down from the carriage interior. Vytis smiled down at her, an altogether charming testament of his youth. One of the footmen had scrambled to help him, reaching for the reins to settle the horse as he slipped both of his legs over the side and slid off.

Once before her on the ground he surveyed her as he took off his riding gloves. Even being younger than her Vytis was about her equal in height she didn't have to look down at all to make eye contact. Although she didn't wish to see improper or rude her eyes couldn't keep from glancing at him and his state of dress. He wore his house colors: black, silver, and midnight blue. A cape was attached artistically to his shoulder and over his back. Since he didn't draw attention to her appraisal she realized he must be enjoying it however she collected herself, bending downward as she extended her skirts in an elaborate curtsy, "I welcome you, my lord."

"Rise, wife," before she could rise he was already bent down beside her, taking her hand in a warm soft grip that prompted her to rise, "I liked it much better when you stood as my equal while you examined me."

Vytis chuckled and drew her arm into the fold of his as the young lady's eyes darted about, as if making sure the parents, her own and his, had heard such a comment leveled at her but relief took over her as she realized that everyone BUT them had gone leading the procession towards the church. Ingrid looking disapprovingly upon their intimacy in her recurrent jealousy. Although Vytis was being rather familiar, surely such romanticism was allowable, surely expected and approved of to a degree when a husband was newly introduced to his intended. She allowed herself to calm at the approval apparent on the faces of the adults, allowing Vytis to draw her to his side, so close that she felt his shoulder support her as he led her along behind the parents.

"There is no need to delay, the ceremony shall happen immediately," Lady Lorraine commented to her father.

"I do hope that you will take your evening meal with us this eve, in celebration."

"Of course, Margrave."

In accordance with their traditions, the betrothal was to take place at the residence of the bride. It was said 'a betrothal began in the house of the bride and was completed when the bride was taken out of her house, when her husband took her through marriage'. It could happen in any religious place but she knew that, to show their grandeur, that it would be a private ordeal that was done with a privileged few sufficing as witnesses in their family chapel.

The Aurelien chapel took the name of her Father's house, in ways that she and Ingrid never could. The building was well built and strong, its exterior was simple built out of smooth, hewn stone. Its doors were made of strong cheery wood, doors which were opened for the noble succession of individuals as they stepped inside. The priest was there, to validate the betrothal so it would be a just and true union in the eyes of all, and to secure its blessing by the gods. Several stained glass windows, speckled with bright colorations depicted the mortal representations of the divines. The multi-hued glass shone a multitude of colors over the chapel's exterior as the sun's ray projected the colors around them like a rainbow. A single altar which normally had only two candle upon its surface had a silken fetter along with two rings and a chalice. Pews where they normally prayed had been removed and in there place comfortable chairs had been placed out for Lord and Lady Lorraine, her Father and Ingrid.

No place of rest was placed out for either of her or Vytis, the latter guiding her into place before the altar. The priest waited for their honorable parents to take their seats, "Are those who are present, Lord Vytis of House Lorraine and Lady Astridr of House Aurelien?

"I am, we are," they answered together first attesting they were whom they attested to be and that they were both present.

"Does Lord Vytis have the consent of the Lord of Lorraine to approach this altar to promise himself to the Lady Astridr before all the gods of Asgard?"

"He does."

"And does the Lady Astridr come to this altar by the wishes of her sire and Lord, Margrave Aurelien?

"I give my daughter to this son of Lorraine in troth, with all inherent blessings given through my consent."

Silence was expected of her and she did not disappoint, averting her eyes in such a way that gave an air of consent that she would be dutiful, fulfilling all the promises her father swore in her stead. Her right hand was taken by his left and the both of them outstretched their arms presenting their wrists to the priest who laid the strip of silk upon their wrists where the pulse beat beneath.

"My lord?"

The priest presented a ring to them, Vytis picked it up and held it pronged between his thumb and index finger as he faced her with a rather serious expression, "I, Vytis of Lorraine, give myself in troth to Lady Astridr with the promise that I will take her as my future bride, taking her as my wife as long as our love shall last."

Vytis slipped the ring on her pale finger, it was loose but it fit well enough. The priest was already braiding the strap of pure white silk around their wrist. He stopped after the first braid, the first link was established by Vytis' vow.

Her blue eyes couldn't miss the barely concealed shock in the expression of Lady Lorraine, her husband laying a hand upon her lap as if appeasing her. The arrangement was not for love, even she knew that, but his parents would not interrupt the vow he'd sworn seeming to know the sanctity of the ritual that was underway.

"My lady?"

The priest was scrutinizing her and she realized that her father was silent, waiting for her to speak, verbally binding herself to his wish, to reaffirm his sworn vow.

"I, Astridr, eldest daughter of Margrave Gudleifr – Lord of Aurelien, give troth into the keeping of Lord Vytis of Lorraine with the promise that I will wed myself to him in the future as long as our love shall last."

The priest made a second braid in symbolism of her vow.

"Is the High Lord of Lorraine and the Margrave in acceptance and agreement over the binding of these two youths under such a vow?"

"We are."

The priest concluded the ceremony by tying off the braid, offering prayers for the gods to safeguard and bless their union. She looked straight forward, bending her head in silent prayer. Even when she felt Vytis' wrist stir beneath the silk braid she didn't look to her side, to him however she couldn't prevent herself from drawing her eyes away when she felt his warm hand curl softly and gently over her frigid hand. The feeling of that warmth between them was almost enough to make her believe that their vows had been made in love.

* * *

The feasting that took place after, like the ceremony was limited and constrained, only between the two families, the two houses bound by the betrothal. However, unlike the ceremony the meal was jovial rather than solemn giving her a certain measure of peace until their departure. The pale beauty had never given a single thought as to why she was promised in the future-tense until, "I will come back for you when I am worthy of you. Wait for me…"

"What do you mean?"

"I am going out to conflict, to war, where a man can make something of himself. I'll gladly do it for you and for our future heirs. Don't forget your promise, wait for me."

"You-you could be lost."

"I won't be, you'll see. I promise I will reclaim you. I will live up to my word if you live up to yours."

"Vytis!"

"I have to get going now, I can't leave my parents waiting however before I depart," he brought up her folded hands to kiss them, "I have a gift."

Vytis placed a glove upon his right hand before turning and calling for someone, something. For a moment she glanced at him as if not sure he'd gained a response when she saw a white-gray sentinel descending, landing upon his gloved hand, "Varukiri."

He gave her his other leather glove, urging her to slip it on which she did. Once she was prepared, he offered the falcon to her, "Careful, wife. She is called Varukiri. I entrust one of the dearest portions of my heart into you keeping, safeguard her well."

Astridr almost couldn't breathe from the magnitude of his gift, of what it meant, almost to the point she didn't recover. Her father had never accepted her hobby as befitting but the gesture was unmistakable, her father would not deny her such a gift not when to return it meant offense, "Why?"

"To allow, to remind you to be yourself. I am not your husband yet but my blessings, they have the power to shape you, after all you are expected to please me. A likeminded wife with interests to match mine, that does please me. Do not disappoint me, remain unfading, Amaranth."

* * *

_As the memory receded Freya continued to feel the strains of the mortal's silent emotion, one she had hidden from herself. Silmeria had, over the last few rebirths, been reborn not as a member of the common class but rather the higher born nobility. Odin had hoped that such mortal upbringings would temper her emotions to be second rather than first nature. Thus had Silmeria been reborn into a lesser class, devoid of regulations and expectations, the mortal female would have felt and known the emotion for what it was._

_Joy…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am aware that Astridr/Silmeria contradicts herself. She is young but also a woman growing into maturity. As a young lady she desires love but is coming into the realization that it isn't realistic in the mindset of their social class so she is trying to go for a happy medium, she wants a match of fondness - something as close to love as possible. Vytis/Brahms is not so grown up yet since he knows his future responsibilities but he is idealistically trying to attract a match that he can live with and treasure. Obviously Vytis believes more in the ideal of love even though he can't understand love for what it is yet.


	3. Mortal Affliction

_The next memory paled in sharp comparison to the last, where the last two had been happier this one touched on the other extreme – sorrow and despair. Freya felt these emotions before she had even gotten to the particular memory – the one that held all the pain. Unhappiness had been a trend for this woman, intensifying over the years, slowly gaining emotional strength in her physical weaknesses._

* * *

Years had come and gone, each one more unkind than the last, never the less she tried to stand resilient. The lady Astridr rose early every morning greeting the day with a defiance that defined her will to live. Her chin and face was tilted upward with a remote gaze as she beheld the wind and the rain with a silent vigil. The lady of the house, she never gave into visible despair in the midst of others but in looking upon her, her eyes held a haunted gaze that her companion and maid could not ignore as she approached.

"My lady, his Lordship – the Duke of Lorraine, is presently calling upon you."

A pronounced tremble wracked through the lady's pale visage as she coughed. The cough was terrible to behold, wicked in the pressure it placed on the frail female. At the end of the coughing fit only weak, wispy breaths escaped. Nevertheless with as much grace as she could, the young lady stood. To ignore such a guest, her father-in-law, was unforgivable no matter the reason. This had been her life over the past years, reduced to wasting away with the strength of her youth eluding her grasp. For the likes of her even her unfading faith in the gods was not enough to see her prayers answered, her fate averted, or herself saved.

The diagnosis never improved despite the fact her health was attended to by the best doctors, the best priests. It became obvious that each year she got weaker, each year her condition grew grave, and over the past few months she came to the slow realization that there would be no miracle, no recovery. Her father-in-law's visit, it was not a surprise, not in the least.

No matter how complete, how pure her intentions were she'd never physically would be able to live up to the expectations for her to fulfill her promise. A promise made when she had been a young lady on the verge of adolescence and he'd be a young boy. Many years had passed by and in the interim her years had cured her of ignorance, a blissful ignorance that had made her childhood and its fantasies altogether magical. This was no social call, no well wishes were to be offered on her behalf, Vytis' sire was here for one thing and one only: release from obligation.

She would be asked to release Vytis of their betrothal. Although the Duke of Lorraine had every reason, every right to sever it at any time it was better for the betrothal to be mutually broke by both parties to avoid casting offense or dishonor on either household, to avoid sewing discord where there was none.

Mereit rushed over to help her up and she gently pushed the benevolent woman back, "No, I can rise on my own."

Despair came easily to her but she could never accept defeat while she drew breath or had strength, her pride would allow nothing less than her best regardless of her status. She paused only long enough to make sure her appearance was decent. The fact she was ill, it would buy her time, so her delay wasn't seen as rude but rather necessary.

It was mid-autumn and the northern borderlands were already cold and frigid, each morning the grounds of the estate and the wilderness was coated with thick frost casting glitter over the surface of everything, had the plants not been dead she would have thought it beautiful. Unbidden to her mind she realized that her own scenario wasn't much different, she still held mortal beauty but beneath that beauty she was wasting away and dying. Unlike those plants though they had a future come spring and who knew if she'd make it through the next year. Nevertheless she righted herself, correcting her posture and stepping lightly down the staircase, she did not need to be shown the way to her own drawing room. Her father and sister were absent this day leaving her as the lady of the house, his hostess. She was gratified to see that his needs had been attended to: a warm hearth with tea.

"My lord, I pray you will excuse my delay. May I pour your tea?"

"You may, you have my thanks," he paused as she managed to pour his tea artfully without a drop spilt from her faint hands, "I realize that this might be unkind to call upon you at this early hour of the day especially with your state."

"Think nothing of it, my lord, you are always welcomed within these halls, " as she finished pouring her own tea she took a moment to look upon him, the Lord of Lorraine didn't look better, "If it is not too presumptuous to inquire about your health. You appear unwell, my lord."

"There is no cause to worry about my well being, spare not a thought or worry about it when your need for concern is greater than mine."

"You are very kind, my lord," she was reserved, waiting for when he'd get to the point of his visit, as if to gratify her expectations his next words were just that.

"It is my regret to inform you that this, this is not a social call. I am deeply aggrieved by the necessity of this. I had been holding out for a long while hoping that such a request would be avertable. Your sire, Margrave Gudleifr, has expressed the nature of your affliction - that there is no cure for it."

"No, there isn't. There is no foreseeable end to this ordeal, my sire speaks in truth," she desperately blinked a single time to keep herself from suffering through the trial of tears.

"Of course you shalt always be considered mine daughter, beloved in my heart after all these years. However, in light of such circumstances unfolding between us, I feel it is unavoidable to ask for you to release my son, Vytis, from his obligation to you. I have already spoken with your sire to make sure this ordeal is appropriated in such a way that there is no cause for conflict. You could not help the circumstances that consumed your very well being, your father and I have for a long time been concerned, increasingly of late, of the fact your strength and health eclipses rapidly and that it is believed you will not be able to live up to the terms the betrothal…"

"Naturally…," she had to speak, she was aware that it was rude to interrupt but it was crucial she speak and act swiftly, so she could depart , "I am a woman of my word and when I cannot be, I am honorable. I cannot, in this case, fulfill the obligations I was sworn to and thus," her shoulders shifted underneath her shawl as she slipped the ring off her left hand, "I honorably withdraw my claim upon your son. You are freed of your obligation to me with my blessing. I pray that I have not caused you undue distress and I beg to be pardoned."

Although she tried so hard she could not ignore that her voice trembled as she spoke the necessary words to end this visit, a visit that prolonged her torment. She would never have a life of meaning, no future. By releasing Vytis he would have one but she was releasing any semblance, any chance of one. But what choice did she have? Willing or not, her father and his, would see it dissolved. It was better to acquiesce than to be dragged down kicking and screaming. Only now did Astridr realize that while she saved face on the outside but she still was dragged down kicking and screaming within herself. There was no peace within only a young woman who would yearn for love she would never receive. Even though she tried to control her reactions, to prevent her from making a scene, from making a fool of herself she could not. The turmoil that stirred within her breast hurt, so severely, that she felt as if her heart was constrained. Failure, her attempts to hold back, it was all in vain. Within her chest cavity her breathing increased in an incensed fashion to where, stirred up by her emotional storm, coughs wracked her and their severity thrust her into the welcoming embrace of darkness.

* * *

When she awoke the flood of returning consciousness was nearly as painful and merciless as the act of breathing. Death would have been kinder but even oblivion could not be hers. She was not sure how long she'd been out but a healthy glow was rising from the hearth illuminating the darkness that had been encroaching on her. She had slept through the day? Until dark? The room held a pleasant fragrance that came from the silent and serene glow of candles. Three non scented candles illuminated her table in which she saw that a meal had been provided.

As her health had declined she had been excused from joining her family in the nightly ritual of their evening meal. Tonight, no doubt because of the earlier coughing fit, someone (probably Mereit) had taken liberty to bring her meal. Everything was warm, perfectly placed, so as to provide her every comfort but she couldn't be comfortable not in a prison, her prison. She needed out, her room it gave her no sense of sanctuary but rather the feeling of one trapped.

She gathered her shawl over her shoulders trying to avoid the dull throbbing that accompanied each breath, a testament of the severity of her respiratory fits. In comparison to her room the rest of the house was dark and deserted. Sure that the family was in the midst of the evening meal she was reluctant to bother them however she wished to take her meal in company rather than solitude. If she was alone she thought she would descend anew into despair, the best way to get over her disappointment was to move on with her life and her family was that.

When she went down to the dining hall she did not see them present however she did see three places set. That in itself was suspicious since her meal had been sent up the third place; HER place typically was not set at the table with that of her father and sister's. Her father and sister had to be back but the general silence, the lack of life around the massive manse was unsettling. However she was not prepared to retire for her meal or the evening, she realized she had yet to complete her daily devotions to the gods. Although she had come to realize that her fate was set she still continued to pray, to hope for an honorable death, more honorable than illness. She shivered at the idea of joining Hel within the demesne of Nifleheim.

Normally she could summon the priest to her rooms and privately take her prayer with him but the chapel, it would be abandoned, the perfect place for her to seek solace in prayer. The walk to the chapel would be a cold but brief one. She travelled to the back hall collecting her cloak, slipping it over her shawl and drawing the hood up as she stepped outside. The cold was piercing and instantly she felt her lungs seize, having difficulty breathing as her warm breath hit the frigid air. She gathered her cloak about her tighter so that she could filter out the cold. Her ungloved hand was pale, the warmth and color sucked right out of the numb fingers as she curled them around the door handle. She pulled the door and stepped within paralyzed when she heard voices accompanying the pale glow of candlelight. Softly her mute steps carried her forward where she wished she'd just stayed in her room, never waking within the world of the living.

Before her, mirroring her own ceremony, was her sister Ingrid standing with the Duke of Lorraine who in the stead of Vytis, promised his son to "the second daughter of Aurelien" and Ingrid who promised herself to Vytis in HER stead.

"Oh…my lady," arms caught her, cradling her as they curled about her, to lead her away. Astridr, she did not fight them as she surrendered to a despair that rightly enveloped her after all that she suffered through.

_It had not been meant to be…_

Over the years, she had tried to tell herself that to rationalize why such a thing had happened to her when everything had appeared right within her life. She always pleased her father and lived in such a way as to please the gods. She bit back her anger, allowing it to simmer, slowly receding into tears that marred her cheek. Why had she deserved to be stripped of life and meaning? Her days of freedom, of activity were behind her after she'd been stricken with illness. It had also been the end of any kind of future for her since she could never amount or live up to the expectations of a wife and mother. To complete her humiliation her sister, her perfect sister would eclipse her and live her life in her stead? She no longer cared about her salvation, if the gods were merciful they would take her and soon.

_I have had enough…_

* * *

" _Find your peace. Release yourself of this emotion."_

_Despair…_

_Freya's mercy for the mortal woman was fleeting but Astridr's fixation on the emotional turmoil lessened, serving the purpose of weakening the memory's strength. After that she cast it aside before moving onto the next memory like it was the next matter of business, with an almost casual disregard._


	4. Reclaimed

A keen grip on the reins angled him back homeward, the journey taking long but for all considerations his progress was swift. Over the past ten years he had been on the battlefield making a name for himself and his household. As he had told Astridr all the years they'd been parted, he would return to her when he was worthy of her, able to support her and her issue. Although he shouldn't be distracted from his return home, he couldn't prevent his mind from wandering to her supple grace and beauty of his betrothed. The last time he had seen her she had been a young, on the verge of blossoming into the most beautiful enchantress in existence. If the memory of her from ten years ago was enough to make him turn his head than the thought of her now, he shifted impatiently in the saddle to lessen discomfort, was enough to make his blood stir.

Before he got to his ancestral home his father would be buried in his grave. The body could be preserved but not long enough to make his mother stay her hand for his return, his father would be laid to rest and he'd pay his "respects" whenever he got there and assumed his inheritance. The thought of the death of his sire, it did not bring forth any strong sentiments of grief, only mute respect. That is all he could feel was respect for the man, his father had not been a kind man but he'd done what he must. Regardless he was in no hurry to be home and his thought was to angle towards the home of his bride-to-be.

Ten years ago, he had made his promise and it was a long time to make a lady wait for her lord and husband. At twenty three years of age she'd be a maiden who should have already been with one or two children for how long she had lived. When it came to a question of distance her home, on the borders was closer than his practically on the way to his. It struck him as a waste of time and energy to pass her by to return to the comforts of his home only to return later for her. The deciding factor for his argument was when he looked up to the sky and noticed it was almost dark, he had ridden nonstop taking a few short breaks amounting to mere snatches of sleep. The idea of riding through the cold winter's night was unappealing in sharp comparison to the thought and idea of arms, "My sire is already buried in his grave and my mother, she'll never know."

Vytis stopped only long enough to write a missive alerting Margrave Gudleifr of his approach; it would be discourteous to arrive on his doorstep asking for his hospitality. He was sure that because of the nature of the arrangement with his own blood that Gudleifr would not refuse him nevertheless he waited for response although his greatest instinct was to go and bury himself in the welcoming embrace of his wife-to-be.

* * *

"My lady! You should not be out! You are going to catch your death! And for what? A stupid bird?"

Her prone form was hunched in a sitting position, wedged between where the strong branch met the tree's trunk. Her only reaction was that of her head turning in the direction of her companion. Mereit's reaction was predictable, expected at best. Astridr didn't get why her loyal companion did not understand the fact that she no longer remotely had any wish to live through her incomplete existence. Following what she had seen several months ago her father had tried to make her transition, her fall from grace, as peaceful as possible nevertheless anything that had been bestowed upon her by the now "late" Duke of Lorraine in Vytis' stead had been given to her sister. Everything she had once called her own had been an illusion that was swept away by the reality of his sister's ascension. It didn't matter that she was the eldest or the heiress, she wasn't anymore, and she was merely an invalid dependent upon the generosity of her family.

The only comfort had been Varukiri, the young falcon had aged over the years but she was still fair and cunning. Age had given her experience and it made her look more beautiful. Even in the decline of her health Astridr had been determined that Varukiri should not suffer, that she be taken out and allow to hunt. No one knew how to handle the huntress save herself, and so despite her health complications, even if it cost her life she saw through it – it became a daily ritual for her. Vytis had given Varukiri into her keeping and while it saddened her that she would one day return her to him, in the interim she would care for Varukiri well – for him. Her shoulders shifted beneath the fur-lined cloak as she tried to hide a silent cough wracked her lungs. Predictably her excursion outside, into the cold did nothing to aid her and every night she went to sleep weak and in pain but it was worth it. To see Varukiri thrive, so that she could imagine and dream about was it was like to extend one's wings and soar - transcending one's boundaries and limitations.

"My lady!"

"Go away Mereit. I am going to die anyways what matter is it of when it happens," truthfully she'd much rather choose when her own death was to occur so that it would be on her terms, so she could have some fleeting control over the tempest of her own existence.

"My lady! You shouldn't say things like that!"

Ignorance of such reproach came easily normally but this time it was a piercing shriek from Varukiri that distracted her. Her eyes glancing to see, in the distance, an approaching rider, "A Rider?"

If there was any saving grace for her it was her curiosity and with as much grace as possible she slipped out of the tree, holding out a gloved hand for Varukiri to land upon. Mereit tried to embrace her, flinging a blanket over the cloak on her shoulders but she ignored it, slipping inside. Varukiri shifted on her hand as she noticed the rider being received in the hall. It was no one of import so she knew he'd be given a tip and sent off. Her father gazed up at her momentarily, as if noticing her presence on the staircase before opening the missive. At his side, her sister's healthy visage never strayed far from her Father. The Margrave folded the letter and passed it to her and she realized that he wanted to hide the contents from the common folk and possibly, her?

Ingrid was never as subtle, "He is coming here? Do you think?"

"We will be prepared for anything. I wish you prepared to greet him."

"Of course," a healthy flush of pleasure and bliss rose to her sister's cheeks, the pleasant scenario and its opportunities making her all but blind to the fact it hurt the present onlooker – her own sister, "I must be made ready!"

Several maids hopped to her command and she rose up the staircase without a backwards glance at her elder sister as Astridr descended, shadowing her father, "Father!"

"Astridr."

"I am not well so I begged to be excused from the greeting vigil however if I may I would be more than pleased to carry your response back to the courier."

"That is kind but unnecessary and you are excused."

"Please, Father, I have been nothing to you of late allow me to be of even fleeting use to you in this."

Her father stepped into his study and gestured for her to follow him otherwise she never would have. The warm was dark lit by the faint glow of a lamplight that he lit anew so it cast a radiant glow over the room. The room was pleasantly warm as he sat down and wrote the letter, "You cannot help that you'd inherit the curse of your mother's genetics nevertheless I value you for your zealous desire to serve my interests well. Had there been any way around this I would have found it but I could not lose that type of alliance, not over you, having your sister promised in your stead was the only way we could continue to secure the marriage alliance with Lorraine."

"Father, no more please, I understand," she didn't say anything more nor did she want him to. Without further word he wrote a hasty response and held it out to her. She stepped forward to receive it noticing that he didn't even make eye contact as he gave her the response in dismissal. She carefully stepped back three steps before turning and leaving the room. The courier was waiting nervously in the hallway and she pressed several coins generously into his palm, "You are dismissed, your services are no longer required save to lead her," she gestured to Varukiri, "she will carry our message. Show her the way and she will follow you."

The courier bowed to her, "Very well, my lady."

"Good fortune to you"

"And you."

She smiled wryly at his well wishes knowing that his well wishes for her would fall on deaf ears, for the gods had none for her in this lifetime.

* * *

Their response came on swift wings literally. The courier never returned nevertheless a spectral sentinel descended from the heavens herself and called out to where he almost didn't dare to believe it, "Varukiri!"

He called out to her and she came, like a loyal wife: a strong and stalwart companion that was forever at his side in a moment. Varukiri had not changed she was still true and obedient as much as she had been the day he left her. She had been taken care of and well, she looked good, "So how is she doing? Hmmm? Well? I suppose instead of asking I should see for myself."

He hastily read the response and found that he would be accepted in readiness. He secured Varukiri upon his leather glove and with his other hand mounted his horse flicking the reins riding down to the estate. When he arrived there he was accepted wordlessly however everything was wrong. In the distance he saw a woman but it was the wrong woman, NOT his.

The woman who stood before him WAS the daughter of Margrave Gudleifr but the dark beauty before him was the younger daughter, the WRONG daughter. Ingrid's dark beauty clashed in comparison to Astridr's pale ethereal radiance, "Ingrid?"

"Yes, my lord."

"What is the meaning of this? Where is Astridr?"

"Astridr? My lord? You are not aware?"

"Is she well?"

"Well, no, in a matter of speaking. There has been a change, I thought you were aware that she cannot, she released you."

"To you?" he couldn't keep from sounding incredulous.

"Your father asked several months ago and she acquiesced, he was aware that you were still in need of a wife. I was willing…your father promised you to me."

Incensed rage went through him trying to claw out from beneath the surface of his skin as he tried hard to be civil, to keep from sneering. The idea of Ingrid as his bride was UTTERLY unsatisfactory in ways that he could not dare tell a lady of quality without seeming to be a downright brute. Where Astridr was kind and selfless, Ingrid was abrasive and selfish, altogether self serving and self absorbed. She had been that way at nine years of age and in ten years she had not changed, not a bit.

"Where is Astridr?"

"I don't know."

"Never mind then, I'll find her MYSELF!"

Menace coiled through his tone as he stalked towards the house however a fleeting glimpse of figures slipping through the moonlight, into the chapel made him stop. Both of them were small and slight, undeniably female, and for a moment when he gazed at the one in the lead he could have sworn he saw the moonlight reflect a perfect strand of pale silk framing a flawless cheek visible against the dark cloak overcastting her face.

_Astridr…_

* * *

Pale hands reached to close and secure the door before she stepped into the quiet chapel, for her daily prayers. Although she had given up on salvation of her body and soul her spiritual counselor would not allow her to forego the ordeal and in this case she was eager for anything that would remove her from the awkwardness of Lord Vytis' arrival and his approaching marriage to Ingrid. Mereit, the ever faithful and under (to her guilt) appreciated, accompanied her to watch over her. Of anything she had been remiss as a sibling and bitter towards Ingrid. If there was anything she should be praying for it would not be for herself but rather for Ingrid's happiness. That was a fitting prayer and one that would be more likely to be answered. The delicate female removed her hood and bent down her head as she came to her knees only to here the crash of the door. At first she thought it was the wind but soon saw that it was because of the male in the doorway.

"M-my L-lord, what are you doing here?"

"Astridr," his words were said with such emotional tension that within her body it ignited a complex reaction, she felt an instant surge of white heat going straight down to the cradle of her thighs as his eyes, to her outrage, possessively raked her undressing her with an appraising gaze, "Do you have a priest?"

"For your upcoming nuptials? O-of course, my lord."

"OUR nuptials, Astridr. I promised my troth to YOU. Make no mistake that before the sun is down you and I will be wed and come nightfall, you will share our marriage bed."

"Don't be foolish. You disgrace yourself in disobeying your parents. Your father will see you wed to Ingrid as he swore to her many months ago."

"My father is DEAD and a fool; after the likes of this he can roll in his grave for all I care, and my mother, my darling mother, she will be too late to know the difference. Prepare yourself, Astridr, find yourself a gown."

His father was a fool, acting as sole witness to this "blotched" betrothal to Ingrid. Now he was dead and the ONLY witness left was Margrave Gudleifr, a slip of a man who could be manipulated with absurd ease. No, HE would decide which of the two betrothals to honor and it WOULD BE the first!

* * *

_At first she missed the likes of the emotion – it was so elusive, not even understood by the mortal woman herself._

_Surprise…_


	5. The Bride - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter grew REALLY LONG (once I started writing I just COULD NOT STOP) -SO- in the interest of not fraying the patience of the readers OR frying "one's" brain I split Chapter Five into a total of FOUR parts.

"We are going to have words, Margrave," his tone was quiet and composed but altogether ominous.

"My lord, I understand that unpleasant surprises are just that but the change, it was made for the better - in your interest. I am a man of my word-"

"As am I," his tone was grave as if offended.

"You don't understand, my lord. My eldest, she is ill."

"So that absolves me of my vow? The one I made to her? When I am called to honor a commitment, my commitment to her, I am allowed to turn craven, to turn my back on her merely on account of her personal condition. I am allowed to bypass her for another candidate because she is not how she was when the betrothal was made, because she enters the union of weak constitution and poor health. It is rather hypocritical to reject her as defective when I am to swear before the gods a vow to take her in sickness and in health. If I am truly a man of honor I would take her as is in spite of the condition she enters the marriage in and I will."

"My lord, I understand this is difficult. When the both of you were young you were quite taken with her but you must not allow your sentiments to cloud your judgments. The alteration was made on your behalf and hers; she just cannot fulfill the expectations of one in the role of wife. Ingrid is of-."

"Is she barren?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is Astridr barren?"

"Well no but it is not believed for her to survive in the ordeal of bringing a child to term."

_Wife-stealer_  – it was not an altogether uncommon name for childbirth but it was the truth. Often it robbed the mother of her life regardless of social status and to compound the tragedy when the mother passed the child often followed suit, dying on the heels of the parent whom they so heavily relied upon for survival, for life. If there was one thing to make him rethink his argument it was the fate of Astridr in her future. If he married her she would be expected to conceive a child – his heir. It was a non-negotiable expectation for his lineage and he knew it from the beginning. If Astridr was truly ill that stacked the odds against her and perhaps even more so since her own mother had been so ill-fated with post-natal complications. A shiver settled through him, he was unable to speak at first but that alone wasn't enough to disarm him.

The procedures were getting better, safer. Surely he could use his wealth to provide the best, to give Astridr and any future children a fighting chance. The more he thought about the more convinced he got already being able to number off in his mind the many things that could be done to stack the odds in her favor. Truthfully it was disappointing that he, and not her father, was the one coming to this conclusion on how to solve the pressing issue of securing her wellbeing through childbirth, "She will survive," he said as if promising himself that as well, "arrange the match. If you have interest in preserving this alliance than you will forget entirely of my father's meddling and machinations. The only way you'll possess my name in any sort of alliance will be if my hand is joined with Astridr's in marriage."

"My lord, think on this!  _As long as our love shall last?_  All those years ago, we did not interrupt your vow because we felt no need to. You were young and it was endearing even if it was foolish. We felt no need to correct your sentiments; we thought your mind was on the right place. Love is nothing to base a match upon!"

"You are lucky your meddling and those of my father hasn't tried my patience to the extremes in which you forfeit the alliance entirely as a result," he said dispersing a solid threat to draw the man in line, "If you are not going to honor your side of the agreement why should I hold myself to it? I will wed Astridr this eve or I will depart and I will NOT return."

His words worked, it intimidated the Margrave, a man twice if not thrice his age. The man hastily agreed to work out the last of the details so he could be left to his leisure to prepare for the service. A servant led him to quarters where he'd be left alone, able to bathe and dress accordingly for the ceremony. It pleased him to note that already they'd seen to bringing up his belongings. He placed his rough hands on the travel worn leather of his saddlebag feelings the crackle of the wrapped parcel within. He drew back the smooth leather flap and pulled out a parcel wrapped in paper. Nails dug, tearing into the light brown covering revealing a lovely gown.

It had been his intention not to give this to her until after the wedding as a gift. However he doubted that she truly had anything lovely enough to do her beauty justice. After years of being a wallflower next to her father and sister she deserved some grandeur that drew her apart, drew her into the limelight. It was not white however it was suitable and would serve well as a wedding dress. He carefully drew the commissioned confection, every bit of the fortune he'd spent on it would be worth it to see her adorned so lavishly in the lovely creation. He had no idea where to find her, likely he would not be welcomed to try, and thus he found her maid. The woman was aged and severe but he knew that she was reliable and thus entrusted her to deliver the gift before angling back towards his own rooms.

* * *

It was impossible to place her finger on which solitary emotion she felt was the strongest for so many emotions, in rapid succession, warred within her state of mind. Her first reaction was one of outrage to have him speak to her in such a coarse tongue not taking WHOM he was speaking to into the least bit of consideration. Despite her condition she was a lady of breeding and quality and he was not acting like a gentlemen. Though perhaps the most humiliating aspect was the reaction he stirred into her. His words had truly shocked her but shock was a short lived emotion and in this case, for her, it could only lead to joy or despair.

His abrupt announcement, his dictations left no room for maneuvering or questioning. That he would cast aside her healthy sibling Ingrid for her it was pure foolishness and no matter how she tried to tell him he would not give her the chance. He gave her instructions and clearly expected her to follow them to the letter. It was likely her father who would set him straight, tell him of her condition and put the nuptial arrangements for him back on their proper course. After learning the truth he would not marry her which meant the surprise would give unto her despair. For her it was the cruelest sort of sick joke that she'd have him return, asking for her, giving her the hope that for the moment they were truly meant to be, that he would want her instead of Ingrid.

Mereit had recovered first, leading her up to her room where she now listened carefully for the ordeal to be called off for her. It never came, not yet, which made her uncertainty melt away slowly. If she were to assume the best than what kind of victory would it yield? Truthfully he was lovely to behold but massive, he had aged well and beautifully on the distant fronts and she, she had withered away. As she pulled the last of her gown's laces free, the garment slipped free revealing pale skin stretched over her gaunt and diminished figure. She placed a hand over her belly and curves, only seeing weak deformity in herself. If he married her, he would see her for what she was, she would let him down. The last thing she wanted was his disappointment thus she felt terrified to even think of the ordeal of consummation. If he took her to his bed she was sure she'd break beneath the strong, solid pressure of his body.

For years, while she had been allowed to entertain it, the idea of marrying him had secretly thrilled her and now she could find no peace. No longer could she be sure of herself whether she wanted to marry him or not. Part of her wanted to go down and beg him to listen, to follow the path prescribed by his father so she couldn't possibly suffer any disappointment. However, a distant part of her yearned just as deeply for a future with him, a future that everyone but HE had denied her. Vytis, his decision to take her as his wife, this was her only chance. If he would take her as she was then he would be the only one for no other families would barter for the likes of her hand. Did she dare to take the chance?

_I have had nothing else to live for…if I step away, step down I know of the misery that awaits but if I take this chance…could I be happy?_

After years of nothing but a steady decline into sorrow she was ready for ANY chance at happiness. She was ready to place her frail hope in the hands of fate, ready to bequeath and entrust the fragile remnants of her heart to him.

First she had to find something suitable, something fitting for one to be wed in. Her wardrobe was nice, very nice, but truthfully over the years she had not made any great expenditure when it came to clothing. It had seemed unnecessary that she spend a great deal on clothing, only making sure they could provide warmth and accommodate to her weight loss over time. Anything and everything would look too simple; it would make her look like she was of low class in comparison. Finally she settled on a white dress, its lack of adornment was regrettable but it would at the very least, without any chance for preparations, be appropriate. As she slipped a thin shift over her naked form she heard the subtle approach of footsteps, feminine footsteps, for they were too silent to be those of her Father or Vytis. Even when Mereit came into view she did not relax until the maiden extended her arms out, "For you, the young lord wishes you to wear this for your nuptials."

Sapphire eyes flickered over to the proffered gift only to widen in mute astonishment. The gown was breathtaking, the most beautiful she had ever seen and she wondered how he had come across it, had it been acquired for her? The gown was layered with an empire waistline, its underskirts was not white but rather a clean clear cream coloration. Its embroidery was elaborate stretching along the hem, cuffs, and bodice of the dress. No heavy jewels were sewn into the priceless material but there was a fortune of silver painstakingly embroidered to great effect. In the crook of Mereit's arms she saw slippers which possessed the adornment of smooth silver and, she gaped, diamond?

What Mereit presented her was a fortune if it was sold it could feed a collective group of villages for several years in entirety. She had always realized that his family was wealthy but this much? First instinct was for her to reject it, it was too grand for her but she knew that if she didn't wear it, it would insult him which would altogether be a horrible way to greet her spouse on the altar.

"Come, we must get you ready, already he has bathed and joined your father downstairs for some brandy."

She turned taking a hold of her bedrail as Mereit looped her corset around her bodice, drawing it around her softly and lacing it to her bosom was supported but not enough to bruise her fragile skin. Afterwards, as if she was a puppet she lifted her arms so Mereit could draw the gown over her head and upon her form. It fit her figure a lot better than she thought it would and once it was tightened, it would take a few minimal adjustments to fit perfectly. Mereit worked swiftly which gave her no further chance to think. As each lace of the dress was tightened and was eventually tied off she felt as if she was falling into place, into some future she could not escape and she could not discern if she felt it was for the better or the worse.

_I hope, for the better…_

The last part she could do on her own and she slipped her feet into slippers. Her pale fingers slipped over the gown in an almost modest fashion as she shyly looked up at Mereit, she had a grave look on her face like one who was sad but her eyes looked like they shone with an inner light of happiness, approval, "You are ready."

* * *

The wait had not been long but in the time he waited for her seemed like forever. However, for how long he had made her wait – ten long years – he figured she had her right to time to process and act. Ingrid was silent and sullen, enraged although she wouldn't make a deal of it not in his presence. Margrave Gudleifr, after their discussion, was uneasy and almost ready to send a summons for her when he heard the soft steps. Instantly his eyes warmed, tightening possessively on the visage that altogether attractive vision that greeted him.

It was ten years ago all over again but the memory of the attractive young wallflower had been replaced by the lovely woman of flesh and blood. Despite the deterioration she had supposedly suffered she seemed unchanged. In ten years she had grown into her bosom and curves and she still carried her feminine form with poise, with grace. Astridr was like willow, bending her perfect form in just the right way to enchant and beguile. Before he even knew it he had crossed over to her, extending his hand for hers. The palm that slipped into his calloused was sublime pale silk and he was hard pressed not to brush his lips against it. Instead he drew her down and noticed that she didn't have a cloak. Behind her Mereit, her ever-faithful companion, gave him the cloak to slip over her shoulders. He gently shifted his grip and led the procession towards the chapel. By now it was almost evening but they would be wedded this evening in a modest ceremony and tomorrow they would leave, she would leave her ancestral home for his where she be newly acclimated as his wife – the Duchess of Lorraine.

* * *

Apprehension was her first reaction to his hungry gaze, he couldn't see anything but what the surface showed him and thanks to the dress, the surface was lovely unlike the rest of her. Nevertheless he was tender, gentle she could tell from his grip that every action of his was done with care. Astridr offered a silent prayer that he'd be just as kind, as gentle to her after the deed was done. She only spared one glance behind her and it was aimed at her silent father, a man who offered her no words, just allowing this man to take her. She found it strange but he seemed to have lost any semblance of authority causing her to wonder if, like her, he had altogether failed to reason and rationalize with the young charismatic lord. Fear made her avoid gazing at Ingrid although none of it was her fault she ruined Ingrid's chance at happiness. It was something that, if she looked into her sister's eyes, she never be able to accept. If she saw Ingrid's upset it would be impossible to go through with the ceremony even if it had been her originally by right.

The same priest was there but he had a tired gaze and she knew it was because the timing of their union was altogether unconventional nevertheless with a nod from her father and Vytis he started to drone out the service. For most of it she scarcely paid attention waiting only for vows. After what seemed to be a long-winded eternity, when her legs felt like they were about to collapse taking all her weight down with them, she heard the beginning of the sacred vows. It was almost over and she steeled herself for the finish.

"State thy names so that thou can draw the blessing of the gods upon the birth of your union."

"I, Lord Vytis, Duke of Lorraine, take the Lady Astridr as my wedded wife. To have and to hold through sickness and health, to love and cherish till death do us part according to the holy ordinance of the gods from this day forward."

"I, Lady Astridr, First Daughter of Aurelien, take Lord Vytis, the Duke of Lorraine as my wedded husband. To have and to hold through sickness and health, to love, cherish, and obey till death do us part according to the holy ordinance of the gods from this day forward."

The priest inclined his head to Vytis who pulled out a ring, taking her hand almost insistently. The ring was fixed with an amethyst of great proportion and size that was almost nearly as shocking as the amount of glittering diamonds that surrounded it. Although she could have gaped forever at it she didn't demean herself by sinking that low drawing her attention on the vow he was finishing as he slipped it upon her finger, "With this ring I wed thee, with my body I worship thee, and endow unto thee all my worldly goods. I promise this to thee before all the gods as well as those present."

The priest seemed satisfied for he answered in their favor, granting the blessings of the divine upon their union, "I pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your wife, my lord."

The priest scarcely had finished his announcement before she felt him draw her against him; the action of feeling her body pulled into his forced the breath out of her. She had even less time to recover and prepare for the insistent pressure of his mouth being drawn against hers. Although the rough treatment should have appalled her she instantly felt something coil deep inside her, driving away all thought of reproach. She could only swallow the few desperate breaths she had been allow to breathe in before she felt the kiss soften along with his grip but still he did not pull away allowing his tongue to tease against her lips before slipping into the open passage of her mouth. The velvet muscle worked hard and fast in a lavish journey to taste her mouth while seeking out her tongue. She had heard of this type of kissing although it had been considered vulgar to kiss in such an intimate way in public before others nevertheless it captivated her and when he finally pulled away she could only sense a profound sense of longing although she didn't understand for what.

* * *

_Astridr…_

She was altogether innocent and much too tempting as well. Initially she had been slow, almost unresponsive to the kiss, although he seriously hadn't minded. The moment their lips touched he had immediately hungered for more. The only thing that kept him in check was the fact he didn't want their already shameless display to be more shameful for her. He had experience with pleasure and passion and she did not but he looked forward to instructing her. She had the endearing shyness only a true virgin could possess. When he pulled back he was gratified to see her lips were swollen from the kiss and her hips securely resting in his grip. Truthfully he hadn't remembered his hands moving down only remembering his arms sweeping around her to draw her close. Her eyes were gazing at him as if in confusion and he wondered if she had been offended by the brazen kiss. He was aware that such uninhibited displays were not duly welcomed amongst the upper classes. Romantic translated to chase not brazen and bold, "I'm sorry," he supplemented to her.

Her eyes demurely lowered beneath her perfect eyelashes, "That is quite alright, my lord."'

That seemingly harmless act only made his desire for her inflame more and he wondered if she even remotely knew how desirable she was. Nevertheless he'd have to wait for the proper time and place for such actions which would come after their celebratory dinner. Margrave Gudleifr profusely apologized for the inadequate fare for their wedding feast although neither husband nor wife seemed to mind. Nevertheless he dutifully led the two of them to the head of the table where their seats of honor were arranged. Dinner took far too long for his liking but he suffered through it so his Lady Wife could eat, replenishing her strength. Even though he was quite hungry himself from the long journey home he made sure to provide for her first. He was swift in attending her needs instantly choosing the best cuts of meat, the most savory fruits and vegetables, and freshest bread. He poured a single goblet of wine and proffered it to her. She thanked him softly looking altogether taken aback by his courtesy. Except for the inquiries provided by Margrave Gudleifr the meal was a silent ordeal which he could live with.

"We will rest here this evening; tomorrow we leave as soon as is convenient for my wife. However it is my hope to depart while it is still morning so that ideally we can reach home by nightfall where," he gave her a meaningful look, "she may grow accustomed to her new home."

Margrave Gudleifr seemed satisfied and continued to try to hold a conversation that he would prepare all manner of things for their anticipated departure but when his words were not greeted with any further comments from either of them he settled into a silence. The last thing he wanted to do was rush her especially at dinner but after the ceremony an awful sort of silence took over Astridr. For a time she had eaten but when he gazed at her she was picking at her food, full but stalling likely. He didn't have the slightest idea of how to make the overture any less awkward however he placed his hand gently over the restless fork bringing it up to his mouth for a soft kiss, "Are you well, love?"

"I-I am. I apologize that I have given you reason to worry."

"No apology is necessary, is the thought of being with me so unsettling that you wish for delay?"

He was never one that was good at holding back his thoughts even if he made sure only she could hear him but she seemed flustered, as if guilty, "I can be made ready for you at any time, my lord, you have only to ask."

"If I was interested in seeing you conform to my convenience I would have taken you upstairs already but I care," he kissed her hand, "if you wish I may excuse myself and you may come to me whenever the timing is suitable to you."

"There is no need, my lord," she rose, nearly tripping over the chair as she tried to push it out so she could rise, his hand reached out to catch her and steady her.

"If you are sure…"

"I am, there is no reason to worry."

"Very well, Margrave, with your blessing?"

"Sleep well, Lord Vytis."

"You too, Margrave Gudleifr."

Vytis gently curled his arm around her, cradling her close. Astridr was a horrible liar, if her tone hadn't given her away her gaze and actions did so. Even in the dark hallway he felt her skin nervously brush against his and her gaze continued to wander in an almost fidgety fashion. It would almost be kinder to allow her to go to her room and rest but he didn't dare delay consummation. For one they were going to return to his home tomorrow and she would return as a wife in all that entailed which meant she'd be taken.

A marriage that was consummated couldn't legitimately be annulled except on the most extreme circumstances which meant she'd have to agree to his "oversight" once he deflowered Astridr. Secondly he had waited ten years for the likes of her and he wasn't about to stand down. He had women before her if only to make sure that he didn't show up to their marriage bed in inexperience. Thirdly he had to break this sense of polite civility, he intended to give Astridr an experience of passion that would instill in her a sense of peace within herself, allowing her to comes to terms of the fact that today was real and she was his wife.


	6. The Bride - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay! Part II! As promised! This chapter is the one that officially drags this work of mine into the M rating. If you don't like M Rated content than this is not the chapter to read - PROCEED to the NEXT Chapter!

The nervousness was back, she had barely been able to eat the extravagant meal offered to her by Vytis. Leaving her to pray he didn't take offense from the fact she didn't eat all his carefully chosen morsels. Even if he just did it to be courteous, out of a sense of obligation, the action had been sweet, one of the kindest things anyone had ever done. There was no escaping what was to come now. There was nothing she could bring herself to say although she felt she had to explain, to prepare him for what he was about to see or learn.

The strong coil of Vytis' arms steered her clear of her quarters leading her instead down another desolate and abandoned hallways to another. Before she was able to hold it back she exhaled a shaky breath in her apprehension as he led her into the room. It was warm, with a blazing fire burning in the corner. It cast a shaded glow against the walls allowing her to see in the near darkness around her but the first thing she noticed was eyes, his eyes upon her. The first instinct was for her to flee as he approached her but she didn't want to.

"Relax," he placed his hands gently on either side of her neck allowing them to slip into place on her shoulder as his lips descended softly on her, coaxing a kiss from her lips. The command when accompanied by such a tender and provocative gesture was easy to follow, "I am not going to harm you. I am not an unkind man."

"I did not accuse you of such."

He pulled back allowing her to see the flicker of the flame reflected off his dark eyes, "Then why, why are you so apprehensive? I do not believe I had given you reason to fear me."

"My, my lord. I am sick."

"I am aware of it," the tone of his voice suggested that he was serious but he didn't care. After so many years when it had been such a great deal of importance to others she found it hard to believe that he couldn't find it to be a detriment, a setback, "Astridr…I swore a vow today, a sacred vow that I have every intention of honoring especially the bit about taking you in sickness and in health."

"I don't think you realize how sick I am, there is no cure for the likes of mine that is why, why I released you," she lowered her eyes from his unable to keep her gaze level with his own, "I wanted you to have a future; I wanted you to have a wife that could provide you with a future."

"You can be that wife, just because a cure hasn't been found doesn't mean there isn't one. Astridr…for one so kind and so radiant, this cannot be the end the gods meant for you. You brought me back, my promise to you. Through all those years I spent away from you, all those nights spent in danger. You were the one I thought of, the one that gave me comfort and hope for my future. Don't disappoint me now that I have returned and I am able to be with you, don't shut me out, let me get close. I have dreamed of a future with you for ten long years," she felt a single strong arm embrace her while his fingers expertly fumbled with the laces of her gown.

"Please, I am not strong enough."

"How do you know that? How will you know if you do not try? I will do whatever I must to cherish and care for you."

There was no answer she could give him nothing that would be good enough for him to stop. As his wife she had no right to deny him herself but she had to let him know what he had taken as his own this day, "I, I am deformed."

Vytis sighed deeply, she could not tell if it was one of exhaustion however she felt him draw back save for taking a hold of her hand drawing her near the fireplace where the flames cast glow upon them both. He used his free hand to take hold of her other one as well drawing her to take a seat beside him on the floor, "Then let us take a look at this deformity you claim. Will you show yourself to me?"

His question made her want to draw her hands back so she could clutch her gown close, to keep it on but this was his right, she couldn't refuse him. Rigidly she gave a soft nod of her head. He released the grip on her left hand first allowing his right to softly brush a strand of hair from her cheek, "Your hair, there is no words to capture its loveliness for it is as radiant as the sun and as pale as moonlight, capturing the beauty of both. Your skin is soft silken, your face angular and fair. No deformities there."

Fingertips danced along her chin alongside the nape of her neck in a way that left her shivering despite the fact they were bathed in warmth. One of his hands darted to unlace the last stubborn tie keeping the gown from slipping down, gently guiding the clothing off her shoulders, "Shoulders, well proportioned. Come here," he gestured for her to come closer, to sit in his lap. A summons that she answered obediently she felt the warmth as he exhaled a sharp breath when she sat situated on his lap, "Did I hurt you?"

"No, don't worry," strong arms drew her against his chest, his mouth descending upon the skin of her shoulder tasting it. The feel of his mouth, its pressure, was altogether erotic distracting her to such lengths that she scarcely noticed her corset undone and stripped baring her breasts to his scrutiny, "You have definitely developed over ten years. Not the largest endowment I've ever seen but it suits one of your weight and stature admirably. You form is slight, just short of malnutrition however that is nothing that good care will not correct," fingers slipped in a ticklish fashion over her hips as if savoring the shape, "Hips are small but shapely, attractive."

Suddenly he laid down pulling her down on top of him, "Lightweight, you fit perfectly in my arms as if made to fill their lonely chasm," he stripped the dress off her legs, baring her body to him in entirety. Eyes fell upon the apex of her thighs, following each shapely limb, "Two legs, ten toes," he glanced up at her hand with an almost boyishly teasing smile, "ten fingers, five on each hand. I see not the deformity of which you speak, Lady Astridr."

"Do you think this is a jest?"

Eyes darkened as his gaze rose level with her own and instantly she felt fear claw through her, now she had done it, she had offended him, "Your feelings are NEVER a subject of jest or joke. Not now, not ever, and certainly not to me. If I can't respect my own wife than how can I expect it of others? There is no one higher in my regard than you, none save you. Please remember that, Lady Wife.

Each and every word was spoken with such intensity, with so much conviction that she was sure she'd never be allowed or able to forget it. One thing was sure she would never make the mistake again.

"Now…are you curious, amaranth?"

A crimson flush rushed to her cheeks as she realized what his words eluded to whether she was curious about him in turn, "Curious?"

"Yes," the smile that tugged at his lips came so easily as he surveyed her, "It is hard to consummate a marriage with one's clothing on. I can easily divest myself of clothing however I wouldn't want to rob you of the opportunity to familiarize yourself."

"Is, is that alright?"

"To touch me? Yes, yes it is in fact I would much prefer that you touch me."

_Where should she begin? What was the right way to start?_

She swallowed, when she was young and actually held the illusion of marriage it had been unbefitting a girl of her age to ask the elder women of her age group about how one interacts with one's husband although she had never anticipated that she'd be granted such freedom of action. Never mind that over the past five years she hadn't even thought she'd ever be in the position she was now, as the wife of a husband she was expected to please. It was as if every time he attempted AND succeeded to comfort and reassure her a new doubt rose quickly to take the place of the last. As a virgin she came to their marriage bed as a wife should but it left her without any direction whatsoever. The only fact that allowed her to finally have enough peace to act was the fact she believed he would be kind to her no matter how poorly she attended to his needs.

* * *

Astridr had no clue how attractive and endearing she was, it was a trial in itself to instill any form of long term confidence but he would not give up, not on her. The moment she had slipped shyly into his lap he had felt the blood instantly rush to his loins, it had taken every bit of self control to keep from taking her right there. However it had been more important for him to make her realize there was nothing WRONG with her. Astridr was ill, badly ill yes, but she was by no accounts flawed and after this night she would know that. Yet she continued to struggle, that was obvious from the fact she feared or refused to place her hands on him. He was well aware that he placed her in an awkward position in allowing her to touch him, women were expected to lie back and allow their husbands to see to their pleasure, to fathering the children without any thoughts or care about the female. The female was expected to give and the male to take but that is not how he wanted things to go, not between them. Nevertheless she was fearful and he was determined to break her of the mold others placed around her. Gently his right hand reached out for her, he softly intertwined his fingers through her and brought it to his lip for a soft kiss before bringing it down upon the bulge of his pants. A sharp intake of breath was the reaction, "Astridr?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Vytis."

"Yes…Vytis?"

"Do you feel that? Feel me?"

A terse nod of her head was the only answer she could offer him for clearly, with good reason, she was speechless.

"Then you are aware that I am pleased."

"Is this from…?"

His mouth lingered mere centimeters from her ear, "From the mere sight of you. Astridr, you do not remotely know how much you please me so do not demoralize and downgrade yourself like this. There is nothing that could possibly do to disappoint me even in your inexperience. All I want is to touch and be touched, to please you and be pleased in turn. It is all I ask of you this evening, nothing more or nothing less. Now…I believe you were about to touch me…"

The grip upon her hand and wrist relaxed allowing her to draw her hands upon his jacket gently undoing each button before slipping the layers off his body revealing his finely sculpted chest. For a time, in absence of knowing what to do, Astridr simply caressed, in his belief, every inch of the muscle and skin. That teasing was enough to make him hunger for more but he didn't want to rush her. After a time her hands began to slip down his chest, mirroring his earlier wandering caresses, to the waistline of his breeches which was handled with the same care she had his jacket. It was a simple matter for him to help her shrug off his breeches. Her eyes had fallen upon his solid erection although he couldn't quite read her inscrutable expression.

"You are afraid again," it was a statement, not a question.

"Forgive me, you are so massive and I am so small. I don't think you'll fit."

"Not yet but you can, you will. Astridr, love, how familiar are you with what we are going to do?"

"I know you are supposed to slip inside me, inside my passage."

"And?"

"I know nothing else," she admitted, for once not seeming ashamed of her lack of knowledge only apprehensive.

"A woman can fit any man however she can do it easier," he swallowed, "if she is adequately prepared. You see, the body has instincts and reactions to everything even for the act of consummation. It prepares, makes things easier for you to adjust to the changes. This might be a bit more comfortable upon the bed though…"

"Alright," with her blessing he rose, abandoning their clothing on the floor as he took her naked form in his arms carrying her to the bed, laying her softly to rest against the soft mattress.

Even through the darkness she was altogether fetching and he was unable to resist the urge to bring his hand in a solid caress over her body as he joined her, "Relax, love," he placed his mouth on the hollow of her throat gently kissing and licking against the supple skin while his hand drifted down her belly to the apex of her thighs. Fingers questing for the center of her womanhood, once he found it he allowed his index finger to softly probe inwardly. She gave a sharp intake of breath and he whispered reassurances against her skin. The passage was wet; she had already been aroused before he had even gotten to it down there. That was good; it would make everything easier for her in the end.

Once she was accustomed to his finger it began to move slowly in and out at first, increasing in speed and depth with every stroke but it wasn't nearly able to compete with the depth he'd be able to go with once he was truly one with her. Instinctively her body responded tightening around the finger, trying to clasp it in desperation. Her hips rose in unison with every withdrawal as if trying to follow the fluid stroke but he continued and resolved not to quit not until she rose to her first climax. Astridr was not wrong, he was large and she was small hence she had better be well prepared or he was afraid he'd harm her. However a part of him simply wasn't in the mood to stop half way through, he had to go all the way. The sweet sound of her cries of pleasure, it was enough to intensify him own arousal until it was rock hard, painfully so. Not yet, he just had to prolong and hold out a bit longer. Each and every sound that came from her delectable mouth making his taut, the skin stretched tightly over every inch of his growth. Never had a woman affected him this way, to the extremes that this virgin, his own wife, did. Desperately clawing to the last remnants of his control so he wouldn't climax prematurely he kissed her, trying to stifle and devour each spellbinding sound.

The kiss was passionate; his jaw coming hard and fast against her, and his tongue was unable to resist the lure of entering the soft, delicious heat of her mouth. The double penetration of his finger and tongue was powerful instantly culminating into a climax that came on swift, decisive wings. The inner flesh of her womanhood clutched around his finger coating it with the liquid heat that coated and flooded every bit of the virgin cavern. A growl came from his throat, as he pulled back his finger, "You're ready."

A shaky breath came from her, "D-do you have to be prepared?"

"You already have," he chuckled, "I am already ready for you, love, been ready since the moment I first laid eyes on you."

This consuming attraction and obsession he had for her began earlier, in the chapel. All it had taken was that one moment, a single confrontation for passion to ignite between them fanning the flames of his smoldering desire for her. There was so many things he had wanted to do with her this night but many of them would have to wait for another evening because he wouldn't wait any longer for the likes of her, "I, I cannot promise that this won't hurt at first but I will be gentle, fair with you."

"It's alright, I want this…with you," she tilted her head to cradle against his cheek as he bent down low, to lie beside her naked form.

* * *

She had never met anyone quite like him and in that he was truly unusual. She was utterly unable to tell if he was blind to all her faults or truly saw her in a different light than all others. Whatever he saw or didn't see she felt truly special to him and for once someone had sat down with her patiently challenging and denouncing every flawed belief that she'd been given reason to believe over the years.

Now she was here with him, scarcely able to breath after the exquisite and gentle stroking. At first the entrance of his finger within her passage had alarmed her, frightened her for she believed he was truly going to push himself in her. However he had been patient, kind and gentle giving her indescribable pleasure and demanding nothing in turn. Everything she had felt up to this point fell into place, the heat she felt in the chapel and the longing she felt after their kiss. Never before had she ever felt this heat, this hunger. Although she still doubted he'd be able to fit she desperately wanted him to fill the aching void he left kindled within her feminine core.

Hands gently stroked along the skin of her inner thigh, coaxing her legs open as Vytis gently settled his weight, enclosing her body in the warmth from the contact with him. His palms moved up, stroked along her waist and hips as his body lined up with her. Slowly she felt a pressure slowly widening, filling her. Instinctively she felt her walls tense, tightening to protect herself from the invasive presence however instantly her husband jumped into action: talking to her, caressing her, attempting to relax her. It worked, calming her enough to keep her from tensing as he slipped within her. His massive presence of being was large, all too noticeable but he never hurt her. Though he looked all to desperate for her and for this joining he continue d to guide himself deeper until finally he stopped.

"Astridr?"

At the mere call of her name she turned to him and he pressed his lips against hers softly as he suddenly surged forward. A cry tore from her lips but was swallowed by the kiss he had pressed upon her lips. She winced, tears nearly coming to her eyes. She couldn't look for him, look at him but she realized that her pain had stopped him save for the soft apology he whispered against her jaw line as he feather it with minute kisses. Gradually the pain subsided replaced by awareness that, "The worse is over…Astridr. I'm so sorry, if I could spare you from it-"

"It is alright, I know you didn't mean it. I am ready."

* * *

When she had cried out against their sealed lips he had felt something within him freeze as if in revulsion and fear. The fact that he had hurt her instantly made him feel like scum. Never had he deflowered a virgin maiden but he didn't realize it would be so hard to cause Astridr any amount of pain or discomfort. Instantly he thought he should've waited, waited until she was better or ready for the taxing ordeal of lovemaking. The moment he released her lips his appeals for forgiveness began and he was truly, sincerely sorry. And Astridr, being the forgiving person she was, understood and forgave him. Although he was all too eager to move onto the claiming of her he wondered if he truly deserved the wife, the partner, the soul mate he had taken this evening.

Muscles stirred as he pulled back slowly and sank back into the hilt losing himself in the tight heat that her body had yielded. The view of her when she had came, nothing could explain the expression of bliss he had seen when her passion had ascended to something greater, to completion. He wanted to see it again and thus even though he knew he wanted his own release he wouldn't yield until she had been given hers. One thing was for sure he took great care with each and every stroke that took them up higher to completion, he didn't want her to be sore or in pain because he driven by a single-minded pursuit for his pleasure at her expense. Already once he had caused her pain this evening, it was not something he looked to repeat or magnify in the future.

Her inner muscles continued to coil; tightly enough that he struggled to pull out. Already he had begun to struggle inside her and knew that he was close. It would come down to these last few strokes. His hands reached for her wrist pinning them down gently against the mattress, his lips seeking purchase upon her neck. In the brief time he had explored their carnal relationship he realized quickly that she seemed to love his attention on her neck. The stimulation was enough to place her, to place them both over the edge. Her climax came and he sank willing into his own right on the heels of her pleasure. A content smile played on his lips as he cradled her close in the aftermath pulling back to gaze at her. Immediately she seemed weak and he nudged her, "Astridr? Are you alright?"

"I, I am fine, tired, very tired but content. Are you going to keep me? Keep me close? For good?"

As he withdrew from her he realized her body was coated in sweat and perspiration. Gently he dried her body of the sticky dampness before taking her in his arms, carrying her back bridal style before the fire. A blanket was placed upon her shoulders as he tried to find the perfect answer for her inquiry. The only answer he could give was the one that came from his heart, "I will, I will keep you as long as our love may last and it will last for a long time indeed."

A smile of fulfillment tugged at her lips her head resting against his chest, his arms encircling her and holding her in secure reverence as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

_Love?_

_No she couldn't place such a label on the likes of this emotion. Lust, passion although they were easily mistaken for love by the inferior mortal race she knew that this couldn't be called love, not yet. Fondness and affection perhaps but she duly suspected that the impression this memory had being of a physical nature, imprinting so deeply upon the mortal from the primal desires that had been inflamed._

_Desire…that is what the emotion was, a powerful and troublesome emotion and the most dangerous one yet._


	7. The Bride - Part III

Vytis had held her cradled in his grasp until the last of the flames gave way to embers before moving the two of them to bed, taking care not to disturb her serene veil of sleep. Throughout the night he had been unable to take his arms from around her, encircling her slight form in their warmth as he rested his face into the soft silk of her hair. He was unable to resist inhaling the fresh scent clinging to her skin and exhaling a warm breath that caressed the strands laid to rest over her shoulders. Throughout the evening he had expected that she'd encounter trouble with her poor health but nothing disturbed the newlyweds on their first evening together, allowing him to sleep easy and secure in the knowledge that she was well, safe within his arms.

However inevitably marriage was not enough to change his habits from the front which meant he still woke before dawn had broken. Even though he was aware, awake he didn't rise, afraid that the removal of his weight from beside her would make Astridr wake up long before she had to. Astridr's zealous maiden, Mereit, had begged him to be gentle and kind to the lady allowing her all the rest her illness demanded of her. It was the only attribute which kept his desire for her subdued and at bay though he looked forward to exercising his conjugal rights in the future, something he intended to do even if it had to be a gradual progression.

The sun had raised high in the sky, its light starting to filter through the curtain before he chanced removing the brace of his arms from supporting her. Astridr stirred but didn't wake prompting him to shift his weight to softly brush his lips in a chaste but reverent kiss. The gesture was innocent but profound reminding him anew of the vows he had made the previous day.

_A token of my devotion to you, for every day you feel the touch of my kiss I announce anew my love for you and renew the pledge I made to you._

He dressed in fresh clothing which had been laid out for him by his generous host before leaving the room and trailing downstairs. The Margrave had already eaten and departed but the lady Ingrid was present and for a tenuous moment their eyes met, "My lord…"

"Ingrid," the tone he chose was civil and courteous, the way one was expected to treat their sister-in-law without their acquaintance getting fresh behind the back of the wife.

"Lord Vytis?"

A servant blessedly broke the atmosphere, allowing him to break his eye contact with Ingrid to survey the servant at his side, "Would you like to take your breakfast here? With the Lady Ingrid?"

"No, no offense meant, my lady," he inclined his head to her noticing how her gaze raked him, "I will take my meal with my lady wife and I kindly would like the meal deliver upstairs for her convenience if you will."

"Of course, my lord," the servant bowed, removing himself leaving Vytis under the silent scrutiny of Ingrid's gaze.

"You know, things did not quite work out between us but I realize you might be disappointed by what occurred last night. You needn't have to cling to her so loyally or avoid me. I may not be your bride…"

Obviously Ingrid wasn't below getting fresh with him nevertheless she spoke on basis of assumption when she spoke so openly of their marriage bed. In hindsight Astridr had little endurance for the ordeal but she hadn't disappointed him in the least, "I haven't the slightest idea what reference you are eluding to, Lady Ingrid, nor that it is suitable for a lady to speak so frankly, so freely of her sister's marriage bed when she so newly occupies it. What exists between us now is all that will ever exist while she is still living. Are we understood?"

"Perfectly, my lord, perfectly," her tone was sulky, holding the strains of one who was burnt by reproach. To be so firm with her, he was truly reluctant but if authority was the only thing she understood and respected than he'd have no qualms about using it to keep her in check.

"I am not your spouse, I am hers and I swore vows that I will hold myself to until death do us part."

"Very well, my lord. If you will excuse me I will take my leave."

* * *

A mute nod delivered her way was the only recognition of her

The man, he was a fool. What did Astridr have that she did not? Was she not what was expected and desired of wife? A woman of peerless beauty, impeccable breeding and bloodline, one who wasn't high maintenance, merely a companion for the purpose of presentation and procreation. One thing was certain she fit that mold more suitable than the likes of Astridr for her personal health profile wasn't so nearly as demanding.

At one time, like her sister, she had five years to prepare herself FOR HIM. A waste it had been for he had gotten this funny look on his face, stepping around her as if avoiding something unpleasant only to stalk her sickly sister. To stand her up, rejecting such an eligible and suitable young bride for her deteriorating husk of a sister, he would pay! Well actually, she would.

' _While she is still living'_

GOOD! It could be arranged! Astridr had been just short of taking her dying breaths in a graceful subdued fashion when Lord Vytis darkened their doorstep and swept her into his arms at the altar. Their father had focused a great deal on the health, to make sure her final moments whenever they came would be as comfortable as possible but frankly, for years, she had just wanted her darling saintly sister to DIE, leaving everyone to live in peace without worrying about her.

In the interim, there was much she could do to help her case which included rallying her own influential allies. Over the years she had shared correspondence with the artful Duchess of Lorraine. A letter upstairs could quickly be finished and sent ahead of them. After all a mother, Vytis' mother, the Lady Lorraine had every right to be privy to the details of the unpleasant surprise that was sure to come to her greeting hall in the form of Astridr.

* * *

Astridr awoke with her naked figure concealed beneath pleasant warmth provided by a thick tangle of covers surrounding her. It took her a moment to recall everything but she immediately recalled everything once she remembered the figure that made last night so magical, leaving such an impression upon her – Vytis, her enigmatic and all too desirable spouse.

Immediately she turned to try to seek to see if he was still sharing the immense bed with her but he was absent. Despite the soft throb of pain between her legs she pushed up the covers allowing her legs to spin so they could fall along the side of the bed. Not yet had Mereit or any laid out clothes before her which meant that the only clothing left was the gown that she'd worn the previous night. A quick check of the floor from the bed told her that someone had already attended to that minor detail, picking up the dress to put it away and leaving her with no manner of clothing to protect her modesty.

In the morning without the fire yet burning strong a chill had settled over the room prompting her to curl a blanket around her shoulders as she moved towards the budding flames licking at the dry wood that acted as tinder. A door opening behind her made her head snap to sudden attention. The vision of Vytis, his return, made her shoulders relax as his eyes instantly snapped into attention upon her, "I apologize the room is so cold. I am a poor hand at the menial task of making a fire."

A smile curved at her lips as she realize the crude comfort was another endearing attempt on his part to provide for her, "You knew to use the dry wood rather than damp," she supplied, to comfort his wounded ego.

"Yes, I remembered that much from setting up camp. I've taken the liberty of ordering a breakfast for us which I've brought up while you slumbered."

A flush permeated her cheeks, "I am normally not such a sound sleeper."

"That wasn't a prompt for apology, Astridr. If you rested so late," a purr crept in her ear from behind as he picked her up, blanket and all, "than you obviously had need for it. Now, I do suppose you are chilled so shall we get you dressed so we can enjoy a morning meal before our departure?"

"Departure? So soon?"

"Aye, Lady Astridr, I must hurry back. I am not sure if you remember but in the midst of the martial whirlwind yesterday I apprised you of the fact my father was recent to his grave meaning I must return, to pay my respects. Already I have seen to packing my sparse collection of belongings and instructed that your maid do the same for your own. Even my horse is being readied for the journey while we eat."

"You have my condolences, Lord Vytis," she had not remembered hearing that however her eyes lowered, their reverence matching her sorrowful tone.

"Vytis. You need only be formal in public, Astridr. Between us, first name basis to breed familiarity, I cannot stand the cold, unfeeling unions frequented by the wealthy."

"Of course."

"Now…I have a surprise for you."

"Another one?" Truthfully, for her, it was a surprise to have ANOTHER surprise waiting for her in the wings.

"Indeed although this gift is more practical than the last and thankfully, in hindsight, a good investment," he deposited her on the bed and brought over a wrapped package from the table, "Open it, please."

She was reluctant to see what expenditure he has lavishly bestowed on her but a part of her couldn't help but be thrilled as well. The reluctance was the only thing keeping herself collected, it was all she could do to prevent herself from ripping off the paper like a little girl. In contrast to the pale confection she'd been given the previous night this one was dark. A dark sapphire gown of the thickest satin with sparse, yet tasteful golden embroidery and at the shoulders was a deep dark raven pelt. The fur was unbelievably soft, almost spellbinding to stroke and touch. The fur was lined along the back and shoulders, sewn securely into the gown, to provide extra warmth.

"No animals were killed to provide the pelt; I salvaged it from a hunter of the forest who died as natural as death as one could. In these colder northern climates it is undoubtedly suitable, to protect you from the cold. Regrettably there wasn't enough pelt to line the entire length of the cloak however it was made with materials to keep one's body heat within and the damp cold out."

"Thank you; I have never received such a thoughtful gift, it is an honor to wear it," even though privately she wasn't sure if its grandeur could be done justice when worn by her but she didn't dare voice this to him as he gently unfolded the gown so it could be slipped over her head. He took opportunity to touch her wherever opportunity was granted, his strong hands roved of her skin as he tried to make the gown fit securely over her figure. His head gently kissed her cheek before moving down to her lips, his neck bent over her shoulder as it craned forward to touch his lips to hers from behind. A warm feeling bloomed within her gut during the kiss, her heart feverishly pounding until he pulled back with a whisper, "and the finishing touch."

Something cold suddenly slipped over the hollow of her throat as he secured a flawless collar of sapphire and pearls that perfectly matched the dress. During the kiss he had positioned her before a mirror and she had to admit…she was beautiful, this is what he saw and he wanted her to see it.

The breakfast, despite the delay, was warm and comfortable. They both took tea instead of coffee and though she was sure he would have offered, she quickly helped herself to whatever seemed right, seemed good. Her husband was seemingly satisfied with her appetite because he made no comments or suggestions about what to take on her palette. Afterwards the servants were summoned to dispense of the trays and collect their belongings now that she was decent and ready to go. It left Vytis to help her down the stairs where she saw her Father and her sister.

In the hallway her father greeted her with an almost haunted expression, "Take care, Lady Astridr, my daughter."

Her eyes lowered as she accepted the warmth of a hug from her father before leaving, "I will, I scarcely believe that Lord Vytis will allow me to do anything short of taking care of myself."

"Then I am at peace to leave you into his keeping. You are always welcome here at the home of your birth, my daughter."

"I will remember that, Margrave Gudleifr, Father."

* * *

Every step of readiness this morning had been seen to in a way that it would be to her convenience. Last night was sure to have left her sore and tired therefore he had allowed her to sleep in late so she'd have the strength to make the journey to his ancestral home. Even now he knew they must move before the sun rose too high in the sky but he had known that it wouldn't be an easy ordeal to leave her family and thus he stood back, giving her time and space to say her good-byes without feeling pressured, suffocated by the time constraint he was sure to impose.

Astridr's innocent responses this morning had been just a delectable as the sensual ones last night. It had been his greatest regret that he'd not been able to see firsthand her reaction to the pale gown he had bestowed upon her before but this morning's reaction, it had to be nearly as great, well worth the wait. Astridr had reveled in the gift but with discretion. The innocent reservation she'd had shown had been altogether like her and he had eagerly drank in every iota of her endearing personality as it was revealed to him. It left him sure in the fact that he was not going to leave in regret over the match he'd chosen out of last night's fiasco, the one his father left him to sort out.

As he led his horse over to collect Astridr he noted that even their transportation had taken her into consideration. It would've been kinder to take her to his home in a carriage but that would've been time consuming which left one other option – horseback. Riding, after last night, was sure to be a painful ordeal especially if forced to ride her own horse therefore he had taken care to make sure that extra padding was administered to the saddle where she'd ride before him, on his lap, so he could absorb the impact of the horses steady pace before they reached her. Yes, he was sure that everything was in readiness and they'd be able to make it before nightfall. Already he'd sent a missive to his lady mother notifying her of his anticipated return today, or at worse, tomorrow.

Once he was at the door he handed the reins to the groom waiting to help them before going up the stairs. Once he was there he turned to his father-in-law, "Margrave…I thank you for your hospitality. You needn't fear for your daughter, I will care well for her well. Your correspondence with her shall always be welcomed and naturally we shall visit. It is not good-bye, not for good, a temporary farewell at best. With your leave my lord, we will see you another time."

"Of course, Lord Vytis, safe travels."

"My lady," he extended his hand for Astridr's and she obediently placed her hand on his own upward palm. Instantly he scooped her up and placed her on the horse side saddle before climbing on the horse, settling into the seat of the saddle before positioning her securely in his lap between his arms.

* * *

The Lady took her morning meal at the head of the table, the seat and place where she'd remain until her son Vytis returned to claim his birthright. In the late hours of the night a missive had been delivered apprising her of the fact he would be returning this day. For Lady Adalind his arrival was perfectly timed, coinciding with the arrival of his uncle, Auberon – the noble king of Crell Monferaigne. It would be the first opportunity the king had to see his presumptive heir and she intended for him to make a good impression upon the aging king.

The sudden death of his brother, the Duke of Lorraine had nearly been an unpleasant surprise to him as it had been to her, robbing the childless king of successor and leaving everything to rest on the shoulders of her only child – Vytis. Ideally she could've been a queen had Auberon died before her husband but she was willing to place her hopes upon Vytis for he was likely to, unlike his ill fated father, inherit the crown from Auberon thereby making her, in all likeliness, the future Queen Mother.

"My lady?" A maid curtsied low to her while presenting a piece of paper imprinted with a wax seal and instantly she realized it was a letter from Lady Ingrid, her future daughter-in-law, a brilliant girl with ambitions to match Vytis' capabilities perfectly. With a match like that girl Vytis would go far under her watchful eye.

"Tip the courier, you are dismissed."

"Yes, my lady."

Instantly she broke the wax seal, her eyes anxiously scanning the missive, their depths darkening in displeasure with every line she read. What had been a long stream of pleasant correspondence between mother and daughter to-be had suddenly turned into a serious ordeal. There was nothing that could explain such an action. Vytis' act defied so clearly the final wishes of his father and it was a grave dereliction of his duty to his bloodline. It would not and could not be overlooked. The rest of her breakfast was uneaten as she hastily left the hall for the study where she knew Auberon was taking his meal, as he did every morning, in privacy. A knock was delivered on the door, firm and resolute against the hard wood, "Your majesty, it is your hostess, Lady Adalind, if I may beg just a moment of your time this morning."

The door was opened and she saw that he was finished with his breaking his morning fast to pack?

"A-are you leaving my lord?"

"Lady Adalind, you are a most gracious hostess but I must be returning to my court. I cannot be abroad and neglect legislation indefinitely."

"My lord, I beg you reconsider. Delay your departure for one day more. My son, Vytis is slated to return this evening."

"Is that so than I would be more than happy for him to pay me a social call at the time of his choosing? As Lord of Lorraine he will have a great deal of responsibilities to settle into."

"Some of them he has already taken upon himself," she could scarcely bite back her tone of discontent, absolutely furious at his disobedience. She'd not seen her son for ten years but she had believed his time away from her within the army would serve to make him more agreeable, responsible rather than reckless.

"You sound displeased, Lady Adalind."

"I have reason to be, my lord, he has defied our wishes. Vytis has overlooked the wishes of his father, your most noble brother, and taken a bride that is not of our choosing."

"Who is she?"

"Lady Astridr."

Recognition passed over his face but obviously since he didn't find anything wrong with the match Auberon obviously had forgotten that, over the recurrent years since it had been revealed, Astridr had been stricken with an affliction of a mortal sort, "The first daughter of Aurelien, was she not his betrothed?"

"At one time, yes, but she became gravely ill and we were granted divine dispensation by the church to void the betrothal. Then we chose the second daughter of Aurelien, Lady Ingrid, to be his bride."

"And you wish me to pronounce judgment upon this transgression of his? Because he took the wrong bride?"

"No! I want you address his intentional dishonesty, neglecting his duty on personal whims. I realize that at this point it may be impossible to do away with the marriage however his defiance, it is repulsive and unforgivable. He should not be able to possess a full marriage with her based on the manner in which he took her."

"You speak of a morganatic marriage."

"I request nothing explicit from you but justice," that would be a fitting punishment though. To deny him the fruits that his marriage with Astridr would have accomplished, leaving her altogether worthless to him since it would deny him everything he married her for.

"Very well, Lady Adalind, I shall remain for one more evening so I may deal with your rebellious son on your behalf."

* * *

By late afternoon he could see his house and hastily pushed the horse onward. The few stops that had been made and weathered was to rest the horse and provide Astridr whatever comforts the road denied her though truly he was eager to get home, to get her out of the cold. As hard as they tried he couldn't avoid taking note of the nasty cough that she had obtained during the course of their journey. Astridr told him not to worry about it, that it was a normal reaction to the cold but as he held her close he knew it was more than that as he felt her chest rise and fall only to struggle every time a cough wracked through her system. The only consolation was he had provided every comfort he could slipping even his spare cloak over her to protect her from the wind.

Darkness was descending on the castle as they sped toward it with light illuminated through the multiple windows in an almost welcome gesture. As his horse entered the courtyard he saw two figures that surprised him: his mother and his paternal uncle. The displeased gaze of his mother made him solidify his grip on Astridr as if to protect her from any sort of abuse that could be earned on her behalf from his actions. A groom immediately came forward to catch the reins as he threw them down, his eyes never leaving his mothers. Lips tightened, as he gave a severe gaze to match her own. He aided Astridr in getting down first before slipping down beside her, barely leaving her unattended for more than a few brief seconds, "Mother, Uncle, my lady and wife, Lady Astridr, the Duchess of Lorraine. Astridr, my love, my mother," the introduction of his mother fit the bare minimum of polite civility at his unceremonious finish, "the Dowager Duchess."

The rest of his introduction could scarcely be finished as Astridr bowed, offering an elaborate curtsy despite her surprise, "My lord, forgive me for not paying my respects sooner."

"That is fine…Lady Astridr," his uncle offered her a warm enough smile, bending down to help her up, "Rise, Lady Astridr, now is not the time to be lingering so close to the ground and the cold especially not in your condition."

"Lady Astridr, my Uncle, King Auberon of Crell Monferaigne. Mother, if we may I would like to move these introductions inside. This night air is not good for Lady Astridr's health."

"Of course," her lips were thinly pressed together in barely concealed malice, doing nothing to disavow Astridr of the notion that she was heartily disliked and unwelcome.

As they entered the hallway his uncle placed an arm on his shoulder, "I haven't seen you in quite a while. Vytis Come share some brandy with me."

"Isn't brandy dispensed after a meal?"

"Normally yes however this will give your bride an opportunity to acquaint herself with her mother and you an opportunity to warm up from the cold of the journey."

Instantly he was loathe to be split up from Astridr, fearing all manner of cruel things that his mother could say to her in his absence but finally relented when Astridr spoke, "I will be fine, I-I will see you at dinner," he was left to rue the fact that her words released him to accompany his uncle while she courageously accompanied his mother while looking so unsure, so uncertain.

* * *

Exhausted, the elder king funneled his nephew into a study, where he lit the wick of a lamp allowing light to suffuse the small room reflecting off the surrounding cherry wood walls, "There we go,"

To gain a blessed delay the king turned his back to pour a few crystal glasses of amber liquid, proffering one to his nephew. The boy took it but didn't drink but he took a long draught of the warm-inducing liquid before, "Now, the subject of your marriage to the Lady Astridr places me in a very awkward position, Vytis. I have received all manner of requests that I deal with the subject of your marriage."

Truthfully he was loathe to even touch the topic. The death of his brother meant that Vytis was his heir, his successor, and he wished to avoid doing anything which could alienate the boy. To declare his marriage as invalid would create a political chasm between them that he might spend the rest of his life trying to bridge while never granting any promise of success. The happy medium would be for him to, according to the wishes of Lady Adalind, declare the union valid but prescribe it as morganatic. However the royal bloodline of Crell Monferaigne was spread thin as it was meaning he could not afford to deny succession to any legitimate children that could possibly result from Vytis' current and future marriages. As king, his hands were tied tightly, the only way he could save face was to confront Vytis however to confront him could destabilize the monarchy.

"Why did you do this?"

"Because I gave her my word. Astridr is not barren, my father and mother had NO RIGHT to do away with the betrothal. She can fulfill the terms of our betrothal so I held myself to my own promises to her! My parents were hypocrites condemning her because she was a liability BEFORE the marriage. I am interested in finding out what they would've done had I been married to Astridr in her health all those years ago and now return to find her ill. I would still, in the eyes of the gods, be held to my word to take her in sickness and health. Would I not?"

"You would."

"Then tell me, my King, why I should lower myself in the eyes of the gods by abandoning the most sacred vow that bound me to Astridr when she was in the flush of her health at the time of our betrothal just on account that she is not well at the time I take her as wi—"

He could not throw the feeling that this was not the first time his nephew had defended his union with Lady Astridr, to see him emit such passion, "Does the match really mean that much to you? To keep it even when others disapprove?"

"If it didn't, I wouldn't bother defending it," the tone of his nephew was nearly insolent in his agitation but truth rang to his words. Vytis had defied the wishes of his most noble parents but would the gods approve of him, the king, breaking such a union? One that they gave Vytis the ability to defend with such strong logic, such intense words?

_No…_

* * *

The reception of her mother-in-law was cold; somehow the atmosphere of the drawing room with a blazing fire in the corner seemed chillier than the temperatures of the Northern winter-lands in their current state. Somehow for a long while, she had believed that everything could be made to work out between herself and Vytis. As soon as he left she had been made to regret it for she truly feared each callous, abrasive glance her mother-in-law gave her. Blessedly her new mother didn't speak as Astridr tried to pour tea so she could exhibit a command of her domestic abilities. No sooner had she poured a generous and pristine cup of tea for the elder female then she found it rejected. The elderly woman ignoring her polite attempt to pour herself a cup of tea while surveying her. Her lips were tightly pursued in extreme distaste like she had tasted something bitter or sour. It was this cruel scrutiny that made her wish that she had never been abandoned by Vytis for it would never be allowed but she had wanted to try to make peace with his mother, if only to make sure his life wasn't a non-stop battle to either please her or please his mother.

"Lady Astridr, I am aware that you have ensnared my son, though I can hardly express myself as pleased by the turn of events that delivers you here as his bride."

"I am not sure ensnared is the right words and I realize that I am not the bride, the daughter you were expecting…"

"No, you are not and I would not acclimate yourself to your titular gains for the union is not likely to survive long enough to be considered a true marriage."

Her words were a burn and instantly she averted her gaze, trying hard not to let tears swim up into her vision. The last thing she had married Vytis for was his titles, for greed.

"I will be frank, Lady Astridr, I only speak to you and grant you this audience because I wish you to release him. It may have been as his insistence you married but you will spell ruin for him and his future. Your sister could provide him with that but not you. If you agree to a peaceful annulment than you will granted a generous settlement."

"I refuse," she had not grown confidence in herself overnight but Vytis had believed in her enough to instill her with his. Once before, at the behest of his departed father she'd given up her right to him. Regardless of that Vytis had come to reclaim her, she would be a fool to give up on him a second time when he had exhibited such faith in her, such loyalty to her, "I may not be the bride you wanted but I am his wife, in all that it entails. I may not currently live up to expectations but if you watch me, I WILL become the wife he deserves."

"You are as foolish as him," the Lady Adalind was nearly speechless in fury, "and the two of you will be dragged down kicking and screaming like the children you are!"

The harsh spat of veiled threat couldn't keep Astridr from feeling a small twinge of fear knowing that, like her, Vytis likely faced defending the unwelcome union and the outcome of his conversation with his king would either make or break their union in its infancy. Her head rose to look out at the stars plastered against the night sky and she wondered if he realized that this time, he did not defend it alone.

* * *

Vytis was TIRED of having to repeat his argument and defend his marriage. Between Gudleifr, Astridr, his mother, and now Auberon he felt like he had spent more time defending the marriage that having it. There was no denying that this was a most crucial battle, to win over his uncle, a mortal authority that could strip any meaning from his hard-won victory despite any fervent arguments or protestations on his part.

He had not drunk the brandy but his rousing argument had done much to ignite his blood, warming him instantly in the way an inferno would. Somewhere in his defensive tirade his tone had escalated and he had risen from his seat towering over his uncle, pacing as the latter sat in silence, musing while scrutinizing him. One aspect he knew he should put a check on was his volume and tone of voice. If he was disrespectful to his uncle than he could consider the battle lost before it even started.

Finally after what felt like an eternity his uncle spoke, "I am a fair man but what you have done will not be overlooked. I will permit your marriage to the Lady Astridr and if it is truly blessed by the Gods than it will produce fruit however if the union is not and the Lady Astridr passes from this world for the next without issue than you shall be required to remarry, and when you remarry the time and bride shall be of mine own choosing. I will offer no other judgment, take it or leave it, but you will make this decision now before we leave this room and before I departure on the morrow."

Things could have gone better but after his display they could've gone worse. What more could he ask for if this was truly as far as his uncle was willing to go? There was a choice to be made: to refuse meant he will have taken Astridr only to lose her, deceiving her from the beginning but to accept, it was the only solution he could accept in the present. Surely Astridr, of all people, would understand the agony of one's duty, would understand that if she failed to produce any child that he'd remarry after her death. It wasn't like she would know of the deal he made this evening to keep her although truly he was sickened to promise himself to a faceless female in the future while she was still alive and not yet claimed by the grave.

"You have my word, I accept your terms," in the end victory in the present only came through surrendering his future but she was worth it.

"If it is anything as strong as your word to the Lady Astridr, I will need never fear that you will renege on it. I will hold you to it, Vytis. Now, let's go join your bride and mother. Your mother has outdone herself to provide a suitable fare for your return."

* * *

The bluff of Lady Adalind had failed and after she heard that their union would be preserved and celebrated this evening his lady mother had hastily begged to be excused. It was a permission that Vytis quickly granted her not wishing her to be present to sour the mood. At the beginning of the feast Vytis quickly lead her to the head of the table where a second seat was placed to join the single seat at the head. The feast was lively and through, leaving nothing to be desired. When Vytis' uncle gave his blessing to their union she felt as if the perpetual glow taking over her, one that could not even spoiled by the gloomy specter of her poor health or the idle threats that had been delivered to her earlier in the eve. At the conclusion of the meal, Vytis hastily begged that the two of them, weary from the day's travels, be excused and with the consent of his uncle he extended his hand to her helping her rise. Truly she had thought that was the end of her perfect day until she saw his hungry gaze, "Astridr?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Vytis."

"Yes, Vytis."

"Last night you learned desire," he purred softly, "and tonight, tonight you shall learn pleasure, Lady Wife."


	8. The Bride - Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I credit LotornoMiko, my friend, with the epic starting catchphrase. Enjoy!

His words were shiver-inducing.

"Aren't they the same?"

Her legs trembled beneath her weight with Vytis supporting her as he guided her into an alien room. She was surprised – they never made it to the bed. Vytis gently laid her against the wall with insistence, his lips ghosting a soft trail of kisses reverently upon her jaw line, "Astridr, my beloved, by morning you will know that isn't true."

His arms curled around her and she was relieved for the moment he had touched her a familiar longing tightened within her, her weight melting beneath the ardent pressure. Immediately she was grateful for the way his arms curled possessively around her waist for he was the only one keeping her up. Their lips touched, the palm of his hand cupped her cheek for a brief but tender moment before sliding along the surface of her neck. Finally it came to a stop to rest upon her shoulder as his warm mouth tightened, claiming the soft skin of her mid-neckline.

The pressure was gentle but insistent; she could not explain what he was doing. It felt like he was biting but it was so gentle and almost lost to the suction of his lips over the delicate, pale hollow of her throat. She was pinned but behind her back she felt a single wandering hand, moving along her spine as he maneuvered his fingers expertly through the laces of her gown. It was easy to follow his progress from how her dress loosened to provide purchase for his hands to wander freely. However each caress, every touch wasn't unpracticed, wasted, or wanton. It was made to entice and stir a latent hunger in her that was all too eager to rise to the challenge of his summons.

From behind his hand moved forward, gently drawing down and banishing the velvet that concealed her from view. She couldn't resist the urge to tremble as she felt his fingertips brush and graze between her breasts. Up until now his seduction had sent her desire directly to her feminine core but as he teased the skin so close to her bosom she felt even it yielding, tightening like the rest of her in longing. Her breathing could only intensify as his kisses followed his questing hand. One hand came to rest upon a single nipple gently stroking over the surface while his mouth laid a gentle kiss upon the other.

His grip tightened around her waist, lifting her up to where his mouth was in contact with her skin but as he drew her close his mouth pulled back, a breath caressing over the wet surface as he spoke, "Astridr?"

"Yes?"

"Relax; this is for you, for your enjoyment."

Relaxing didn't come easily but if it was for her enjoyment he was definitely succeeding. His palm softly encircled the soft weight of her breast as he bent back down to take the other in his mouth. His mouth curled around the tightening skin of her nipple stimulating the flesh diligently, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. Every nip sent a pure signal of pleasure and arousal. The swollen bud of flesh alternating between tightening, softening, and tightening again and all the while his intent and through devotion sent spikes of warmth through her.

His hand, while not the same, was warm and just as thorough. He could not possibly be paying full attention solely to the task at hand but he kneaded the soft flesh lavishly, possessively. To her she knew she should have felt outrage to have him touch her in such a wanton manner. She was his wife, a respectable female yet it felt so…natural. Even as he aroused her to response again and again it made her feel calmed, it accustomed her to him, his presence, his touch. Never did he do this to shame her, only to see to her comfort.

Nor did he slight or fail to see to her comfort equally. Although part of her felt his loins stirring in an excitement to match her own he ignored it. He was a considerate lover, drawing no comfort for himself as he drew her long hair out of the way to allow his mouth descended on her other breast. His warm mouth sank into the soft flesh beguiling it beneath the tender scrutiny of his lips and the insistent pressure of his tongue. Every soft purposeful stroke of his tongue made the skin of her nipple tighten to a point. He continued to tease over the fragile skin in torment until she felt the response all over.

Her nerves were alight with sparks of pleasure that seemed to travel through her veins all the way through her body until they came to the tips of her fingers and toes. The energy was vibrant almost invigorating. There was a dampness that she could feel between her legs, a dampness that came from her feminine passage which ached. Even she realized the suffering was from the lack of something. The pleasure had been incredible but it had not been what her body desired in entirety. When the tender flesh between his lips had gone soft again she felt his gaze follow his descending hands.

His skin brushing against hers, especially her lower body made her legs feel weak. Finally his palms came to rest on her hips and hefted her against the wall as he sank onto his knees. His grip was careful but firm holding her up effortlessly. Her legs spread as he guided her to situate them over each of his strong shoulder. His breath caressed over the surface of her womanhood and suddenly understanding hit her as she was trapped between him and the wall – he was going to come at her from below.

Even forewarned of his intent she could not have prepared herself as his tongue parted her nether lips and slipped over her soft skin, surging inward, into her feminine heat. Again she should have felt outrage or spoken against such scandalous treatment but she didn't think she could have any voice even if she wanted to. Again her body desired that which defied logic and she listened to it rather than holding herself up to self-prescribed limits. Her reactions were all instinct, every step of the way. She quivered in his solid hold as he grazed his velvet muscle in an exploration of the silk within. It felt good but was no relief.

As if sensing the minor dissatisfaction of her body he switched tactics in such a way that she realized he knew exactly what it desired, what she desired. His tongue slipped out only to sneak back in just as quickly. Her husband was using his tongue, using it to mimic the actions of the previous night when he had…

Her breathing escalated as she felt the soft muscle go in and out, slow in the beginning but quickly picking up speed with every stroke. Astridr tried hard not to feel the need to react so completely but it was a task in itself to not try to follow his tongue in its retreat. Especially when each retreat, every withdrawal made the base of his tongue hit against the small bud of flesh between the lips of her womanhood. Never before had she realized that so much of her lower anatomy could provide such…pleasure.

The raw strength of his tongue continued to try to clean it, an endeavor it miserably failed to accomplish. Every movement made her try to clutch the elusive muscle in an attempt to hold his tongue in place, an endeavor she likewise failed at miserably. Even she could feel the damp heat between her thighs growing tense in her arousal and knew what was coming. Again he was pitching her upwards, gaining a response that her body freely gave in light, in response to the provocative actions. A flush rose to her cheeks unable to keep control over her responses. Truly she was so flustered but she could wrap her mind around one fact - she wanted him inside her.

Vytis from the beginning had been shown to have a healthy appetite of a physical nature and now she knew that she had one too, no matter how repressed, within her regardless of her health complications. On the heels of the second release she was allowed to relax. Vytis pushed her legs gently off his shoulders, his arms extending to catch her, gently lifting her down to where she was level with him as he kneeled. Beneath her she felt his erection but he didn't try to force himself inside her yet. Although she was eager for the consummation her eyes flickered to Vytis who was frozen. A single hand softly drew her radiant hair behind her shoulder while his eyes seemed to drink in the sight of her suffused in a pleasure of his own construction, "Astrid, may I call you that?"

It was the first time any had asked to call her pet variation of her name; his tone was so reverent that she knew it was a testament or token of affection between them. A smile came to her lips readily and she nodded, "Astrid, are you able to continue?"

It was her choice to decide? Surely most husbands did not allow their wives to dictate but she realized that he allowed her this decision, his leniency because she was frail and fragile in comparison to him but her appetite was great for him. After all she had experienced this night she wanted to feel completion. Vytis had been right she would understand the difference between desire and pleasure. Desire was the flames that kindled the inferno that was pleasure. Up until now he had fanned the flames of her desire until she experienced pleasure but none of it would amount to the equal of the pleasure she knew would come between them when they were one – together physically and emotionally.

"I am, I want to…"

In the darkness she could feel his gaze fall on her. His lips pressed softly against her, hands gently guiding her legs to part, his length slipped into place prodding against the wet folds until they parted to envelop his intrusion. After the soreness from the consummation of the previous night she had half expected to feel the same pain but this time there was nothing of the sort. No pain and her body no longer ached as he filled the confines of her feminine sheath. Her eyes closed as she felt her body clench around him. Vytis pulled her close, just holding her as he started to move, bucking between her legs. He was gentle on her body, holding back his full strength she was sure, but the effect she felt was instant and intense despite his gentleness.

As he continued to sink into her she knew it wasn't going to be long or drawn out for either of them. He was so rigid that he had obviously gotten aroused off of her reactions, she felt him quiver as she constricted around him. His breathing rate rose as he continued to slip out with difficulty and fight for purchase within her slick silken heat. The frenzied rate of breathing drowned all other sound out of her hearing but it took her a moment to realize that it wasn't him alone but her. She felt herself trembling in his arms as every upward stroke into her delivered a spike of pleasure that circulated to her body. Her breathing striking a desperate pitch to match his as she panted from the effect the pleasure wrought on her untried body.

Vytis eyed her with unquestioned desire but it held a layer of concern? She didn't realize why until it was too late. The final stroke was the nail in her coffin. A feeling of elation surged through her veins, her body quivering in his hold as she wrested their mutual completion together. Too late did she see the dark side envelop this triumph, ruining this moment, turning their moment it into a bitter shadow of the beautiful memory it should have been.

Her body again became her worst enemy; she was barely able to feel her final pleasure as her chest blossomed in pain, making her struggle to breathe around the hacking coughs that took over her being. The last thing she remembered was looking up to see Vytis, eyes fixated upon her in horror, as she gave into the darkness.

* * *

As usual consciousness came after her respiratory attacks purchased through pain. Her entire chest hurt and she realized that she'd overdone it. So many things had been working against her that day: the cold weather, the continuous travel, the exertion of the lovemaking. Unbidden tears came to her eyes, if there was anything to make Vytis regret taking her as a bride this was it. If she couldn't endure lovemaking however was she to conceive an heir for him. The distress taking over her made her descend into desperate coughs and part of her prayed for death so she didn't have to deal with disappointing her spouse. Instead she felt arms slip around her naked form in the darkness, a cloth held against her mouth. Instantly she saw blood stain the white but the soft touch over her chest below her breasts stroked softly over the skin until the coughs died down. The strong calloused hand travelled upward over her skin and finally came to rest beneath her eyes, wiping the tears free before they could stain her cheek.

_Vytis…_

"Astrid?"

"I-I…," she tried not to cry so he didn't have to wipe away MORE tears.

His voice sounded slightly light, "Sorry? You don't have to be. I am sorry, I took things too far…"

"It's not your fault…"

"Nor is it yours…now, rest, love. We'll get through this…together. Amaranth."

"Amaranth?"

He had called her this so many times but she never understood what it meant.

"A flower of unfading and flawless beauty, much like yourself. Rest, I am going nowhere."

Part of her could hardly dare to believe it, he wasn't disappointed even after this? What was more, he blamed himself? Maybe fate had given her exactly the spouse she deserved, maybe she truly had a soul mate who valued her for what she was and saw more to her than she did herself. Every time she had an attack at home neither her father or sister got involved leaving it to Mereit or other servants. Part of her expected to wake up to find a servant attending her in this new and strange place but instead she found herself alone with him personally tending to her repulsive needs in the dead of the night.

It seemed foolish, almost like a romantic faerie tale that had no basis in reality but she could feel only sincerity in the tender emotions between them every time she experienced them. Intuition told her that after everything they had experienced nothing would change in their future. Vytis, her beloved, was more than a man of his word, he was a man of love…whether he realized it or not.

_Her one true love…_

* * *

_Freya recoiled as if burned, realizing suddenly that the memories held strength that she had previously underestimated. Their power came not from simple mortal emotions but from the intense love this lady felt for her beloved. Why had it taken her so long to realize the danger of the mortal that reappeared in each and every memory of import?_

_Love…_

_She wished she could deny it but it was written, plain for all to see. Love was a difficult emotion to seal, love is what made it impossible for the gods to destroy the mortal souls of the sleeping Valkyries. It endangered all she strove to prevent. If love came so easily between this Astridr and her beloved than this was the beginning of a much more difficult conflict than she had fought to date. All the memories she sealed up til now seemed trivial, simple to bury but they would gain strength from this stupid emotion. Her work would have to intensified enough to bury any chance that the memories could surface within Silmeria._

_The mortal was most troublesome. She'd seen him when she collected Silmeria from this Astridr's deathbed and she hoped that he died. Once this Vytis returned to the cycle of reincarnation there would be none alive upon Midgard formidable enough to stir the memories, infusing them with enough strength to challenge the constructed seal._


	9. The Birth of Ruin

_Hope sprang eternal…where opportunity breeds_

Her eyes rose beneath her raven black veil as the casket was carried and laid into place within the family crypt. Dutifully she bent down beside it as if praying for his immortal soul but truthfully she was reflecting on the past and thinking, mapping out her next course of action.

It was a shame that it had to come at the expiration of the old man but for years she saw him toy with the fate of her and Astridr, establishing their futures only to alter them to his benefit, according to the circumstances. Forgiveness came slow to her and she just couldn't bring herself to forgive him for his betrayal. When he could have defended her betrothal to Lord Vytis he stood down allowing the young lord to dictate. His inaction had denied her a long coveted future that now belonged to Astridr.

It had been many months since her sister had departed but in the interim Astridr had continuously sent correspondence mentioning that she was very happy despite the factor of her continually declining health.

_As if I care…_

And barely a month after her departure Astridr's courses had stopped and in the few solitary months that had followed her tiny abdomen had swelled with child.

_Well, at least she had fertility in her favor!_

Although it remained to be seen if Astridr could sustain the child when she could barely sustain herself. Personally she didn't greet the idea of childbirth with any relish but Ingrid didn't like the idea of Astridr surpassing her and succeeding therefore she truly hoped that she miscarried. If her darling elder sister failed to bring a child to term it would make her look that much more inadequate and make Vytis, the Lord of Lorraine, all the more desperate.

In the months since they had parted she was sure the first flush of love for his duly dependent wife would have departed. One thing that was for certain he couldn't hold any desire for her when she got weaker and fatter by the day. However each day the child developed the least likely she was to get her wish. Miscarriages were most prevalent in the earlier stages of development and where her sister had been carrying the child for nigh on seven to eight months meant it was almost taken to full term.

The only bright aspect was the fact that worse things could yet happen to both the brat and its mother. Fervently she offered a malicious prayer that both of them would die in the attempt, the best case scenario in her eyes.

Beside her Mereit was hounding her steps like an annoyance, treating her as she was going to break from the loss of her father. Frankly she couldn't stand him and she was glad he was gone. With him gone, to a point, she was free. With no other family to look after her the responsibility would fall to Astridr's spouse and she looked forward to furthering THEIR acquaintance.

* * *

"I'm so sorry, Astrid."

Her Father, Gudleifr – the Margrave of Aurelien, was dead.

Unbidden tears came to her eyes as she read the conclusion of Mereit's missive. Vytis had not hidden it from her, speaking to her and preparing her for the news the moment he inherited her lands but it was somehow harder to have someone close like Mereit confirm it. Her immediate reaction was to blink, closing her eyes allow the darkness of her eyelids to consume the sorrow suffusing her so the tears could stop. Inevitably the soft light of the sun permeated through the thin skin of her eyelids prompting her to open to look at the enclosure around her.

As soon as the warmth of spring had come Vytis had ordered that the sun room be aired out to provide her a place in which she could relax while enjoying the grounds. Spring had been an improvement to her health but it didn't provide a vast change. Every comfort had been provided for her regardless of cost when it came to her delicate condition though truthfully she'd not be able to pay her respects to her father until after the birth – travel, even by carriage, would be too difficult in her fragile condition.

"What will become of Ingrid?"

Her parting with Ingrid had been more difficult than that of her father, to spend an entire lifetime living and growing together only to leave her behind alone. Over the months she had felt guilty like her sudden marriage was an abandonment of her younger sister. For the time in which Ingrid had inherited her betrothal she may have secretly resented her sister's fortune but that didn't change the fact that she was her sibling and she loved her, cared about her. Now, in her absence, Ingrid would be all alone and instantly Astridr's heart went out to her sister.

Vytis gave her a serious gaze kneeling down beside where she was seated so he was level with her eyes, his tone was calm and conciliatory as he tried to relax her, "You needn't worry. Ingrid's future is assured and will be provided. In the interim the king shall dispense her ward ship into the keeping of a suitable, intermediary guardian and one day, a lucky lord shall call her his wife. Do not grief too deeply, Astridr. It is hard to lose one's family but Ingrid, she will have new opportunities before her and she will be able to rise from the ashes of this tragedy."

"You, you are right but I would like to see her…if I may."

"Then it will be done. I shall send an invitation for her to join us here."

"If that is the case then perhaps you should file for her ward ship herself. How better to alleviate your wife's fears than to place her own blood under your protection? Hmmm? And Lady Ingrid could be present to support your bride through the remainder of her seclusion," the voice of Vytis' mother cut in, descending on their private conversation.

* * *

The opportunity was too good to pass up.

This was the chance she had been waiting for: to correct Vytis' mistake, THE mistake, of his marriage to Astridr. Ingrid could surely make the best of an opportunity when it was presented to her. Astridr had surprised her in carrying a child to term this far but the fact was that the pregnancy had drained the woman of her vitality. It sapped the weak young creature that was his wife, no matter how they tried to deny or hide it.

Not to mention Astridr was so cumbersome between her health and the child that they'd not been able to exercise conjugal rights in months. Six months was a long time for a male to remain under self imposed celibacy. When she had been pregnant with Vytis even her own husband had sought relief in the bed of another. It was expected, the male NEVER should have to give up anything on the account of the woman. Every night, out of loyalty, he accompanied Astridr to bed and lay with her out of duty but she was sure that even he'd leave his cold bed for the promise of warm company elsewhere.

Though truthfully if they were able to secure this than it would set the events of the future solidly in place. If Vytis took Ingrid to his bed than no noble would ever take her, forcing him to set her up at his mistress in the interim until Astridr passed on and then he could marry her. Finally resulting in the match that should have been! If only she could ensure that Vytis played his part according to her hand. Therein laid the true difficulty…

* * *

The arrival of his mother made his grip on Astridr tighten, it was a reaction that surfaced by instinct, an instinct to protect her. His mother, Lady Adalind, was no friend of his beloved wife and he knew it. Mere weeks after she arrived to assume the mantle of duchess as his wife his mother had been so abrasive and cruel, that he had threatened to remove her to the dower estate several miles away if she continued to treat Astridr with cruel disregard.

Since then she had been tolerant at best, clear in her continued disapproval of the match. He was nothing short of loyal and kind to Astridr, she deserved that. He didn't believe it was love, for that was an emotion that was altogether fantastical but it was close, she was very dear to him. Scrutiny readily came to his visage as he gazed at his mother, as if trying to read her true objective behind suggesting such a radical act. Truthfully the last thing he wanted to do was invite Ingrid to live under his roof especially pending the fact that in the past she had not been squeamish about trying to further their acquaintance a mere morning after the consummation of his nuptials.

Immediately he broke his gaze with his mother to look at Astrid as she allowed his mother's words to permeate the veil of her silent thoughts. Before she even gave voice to her thoughts he knew that his beautiful, kind Astridr would desire nothing more than her sister's wellbeing especially in light of such a loss. His mother had plied successfully upon her inherent kindness because Astridr turned to him, imploring him to capitulate, "Vytis…it would give me so much peace to have her near and know she is well…"

He could say no to his mother but not to her, not when she was so selfless in her request. It would be selfish for him to say no just on the account that he didn't want to deal with Ingrid and maybe the younger sister could give Astridr the much needed support in the future that was fast approaching. A deep breath escaped through his nostrils and he inclined his head in surrender, "Of course, anything for you," he brought the back of her hand to his mouth and kissed it before rising to send the missive via courier to the capital.

* * *

Ingrid had never expected that everything would fall into place so conveniently. She knew that without any male relatives to speak for her that it was likely that Vytis would inherent her guardianship but barely a day after she buried their father she had received a formal message from the king, offering condolences and mentioning that Vytis, his nephew, had accepted this responsibility and would act as the ward of her interests in the foreseeable future. Two days after that message was delivered four guards had been sent to collect and escort her to Vytis' estate in Lorraine.

It had been a disappointment to see that he had not bothered to collect her himself however she was sure he was very busy. Absence in this case made the heart grow fonder and she was most eager to see him when she did arrive. It took them less than a day to leave her ancestral home for his. The weather was typical of the spring and summer season, fair and warm enough that she didn't bother to wear anything save a light cloak over her dress. Ingrid had made sure to choose a dress of black that gave the appearance of mourning for her late father however she made sure it was a most attractive piece.

As soon as she arrived in the courtyard she saw a single figure in the courtyard – a female. A smile freely curved at her lips as she urged her horse onward to the head of the traveling party, stopping several feet from the Lady Adalind to dismount, "My lady, it is a pleasure to meet you yet again at last."

"Indeed, the last time I saw you, you were a mere youth of nine years. You have blossomed beautifully; my husband was not in error when he spoke of your loveliness."

Vanity flared within her but a shy smile readily flared into place on her visage followed by a flush that was all for show – a show of insincere modesty, "You flatter me, Lady Adalind."

"You may call me Adalind or mother, my son's marriage to your sister makes you worthy of claim to either name of familiarity."

"I never had a mother before…a weak creature with constitution much like Astridr's. The gods have been kind to gift me with another."

Lady Adalind smiled, "Would you be in the mood for tea? I am afraid that your sister is indisposed at the moment else I am sure she would have come to greet you herself."

"I would love that…"

"I regret to inform you that my son is absent, he had matters to attend to at court however he will return this evening. He returns every night to spend them with Astridr in her delicate health," she opened the door and went over to a table, pouring them two cups of tea, handing one to Ingrid, her lips pursed together as if debating whether to say more, "Ingrid, your arrival is of opportune timing. I am concerned about Vytis, concerned about his infatuation with his ailing bride. His obsession is not healthy, not for him."

"What do wish 'me' to do about it?"

"We both know that you were meant to be his wife and we both know that your sister will not hold that claim forever. He has remained celibate for nigh on six months now…,"the meaning of Adalind's words were clear enough to for her to read:  _easy prey_.

Men were not saints and they had needs that had to be attended to quite regularly. Months ago, the morning after his first tryst, when he was feeling the afterglow of good sex Vytis had said that he'd never take her to his bed while her sister lived however she wished to see if he'd be so foolish and idealistic when he had spent months in cold agony, "What you are asking of me equates to ruin, it will deny me any sort of future."

"This could MAKE your future. Think, girl! If he deflowers you it will ignite a scandal but once your sister dies the scandal can be silenced if he marries you! You will not be able to do better than my son. He will king one day and I truly DOUBT that Astridr will live to be his Queen."

Her mind was made up as she smiled up at Adalind with a conspiratorial smile.

_The vacancy of the throne would be filled by her…and no other…_

* * *

The entire estate waited for their lord to return, even the servants knew he'd not leave his bride – their beloved Lady of the house alone for even one night. She didn't bother wasting her time to visit her sister, from what she had heard the woman was sleeping so it would be an easy matter for her to lie and say she tried to but found she was asleep and didn't want to disturb her rest. The false relationship came to her MUCH easier than the true one ever did. No, she spent her time wisely, making sure to freshen up and when Vytis did return she was among the first to be present to welcome him home. It was her big chance to make an impression on him outside her sister's shadow. He dismounted allowing the groom to take his horse. She watched him eager to approach, for him to take notice of her. Vytis dutifully greeted his mother and turned his eyes upon her finally at long last!

"Ingrid...," he seemed at lost what to say and she dared to believe that he liked what he saw for he surveyed her intently with an inscrutable expression but instantly his eyes snapped upward, into the house where she saw Astridr was coming slowly down the staircase. Vytis instantly passed her without so much as a 'by your leave' or 'excuse me', hurrying to his wife's side to help her down the stairs. Astridr smiled and kissed him in welcome, her eyes shining as she joined the assembled crowd.

"Ingrid," Astridr breathed as though the sight of her sister pleased her more than anything else in the world at this moment. Her sister instantly crossed the distance between them and embraced her. Only sheer discipline had kept her from scowling at Astridr's appearance, the same discipline kept her from the urge to sink a blade between her sister's ribs for ruining her welcome for the delectable duke standing mere feet away, "You arrived? You should have come and seen me right away. I've been so anxious for you."

"I tried to," the lie came easily, "I didn't wish to disturb your sleep after all there is plenty of time for us to spend time together now."

"Yes, I suppose you are right," her gullible sister smiled fondly and Ingrid knew that she could still play her like a harp.

* * *

In the weeks that followed that proved to be invaluable. For Vytis proved to be difficult to approach, it was almost impossible for her to find him without Astridr and Astridr became the only way she got within feet of him. Of course she could never do anything outright in front of her sister. It was altogether frustrating, Lady Adalind tried to ply her son with 'innocent' suggestions to break the stalemate, to allow her opportunity but he staunchly refused which made her realize that she had to engineer a catastrophe for her convenience – one in which he'd be ripped away from Astridr's side.

She took the opportunity on the third week when she went out on a ride into the forests. While in the saddle she pulled out a book on herbal remedies, looking at the picture of the plant before surveying the area around her. She was looking for a particular herb to induce change on her beloved sister's condition…hopefully for the worse.

It took her a while but finally she found it, a long erect plant with lovely pale pink blossoms – pennyroyal. She dismounted and brought out a small knife, cutting off plenty of the plant into small pieces. It smelled strongly of spearmint, a fact that she was instantly thankful for since her sister was particularly fond of scented teas and would therefore not have suspicion if her tea was spiked with an abortifacient. Satisfied that she had gathered enough to drug her sister into natal complications she mounted her horse and returned to the estate to put all the pieces into place.

Her sister always took tea with her in the afternoon and when she returned to the room she saw that a tea tray had already been set in the corner to prepare for their daily habit. Her sister was asleep on the massive bed that she and Vytis shared nightly, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She hastily poured the tea and placed the herbs inside her tea waiting for it to seep. She had no idea how long it would take but she allowed it to seep until the pleasant scent of spearmint wafted from the glass before using the sugar tongs to pull the plant out. She was not stupid enough to keep the incriminating evidence on her person so she disposed of it, throwing the plant out to allow the wind to carry it far away. She turned to pour herself some tea, preparing it as she liked it, before going over to her sister and waking her.

* * *

Ingrid's presence had truly been a blessing; with her sister present she was no longer lonely. Vytis had been kind to her providing constant companionship come nightfall however that didn't change the reality that he had responsibilities that he was expected to fulfill and he spent a great deal of his daytime hours away on business. Instantly she realized that Lady Adalind was right, for a woman in seclusion companionship was everything and her sister was priceless in assuaging her loneliness. It felt as though the years in which they had become estranged had been swept away by their mutual grief. Ingrid had pronounced herself grateful for her support, hers and that of her spouse's. So much that she dutifully attended to her, although naturally Ingrid took times for some of her own activities which was too strenuous for a woman as far along as she was.

Every day Ingrid awoke to take Morning Prayer with her followed by a breakfast that lacked for nothing. The day was often spent knitting and sewing garments in anticipation for the coming child. Ingrid had never taken a love to needlework so when she didn't wish to help out she read to her elder sister, read books taken out of the library. Ingrid took her mid-day meal alone in the hall at Astridr's own insistence, refusing to make her sister suffer through the full strains of seclusion. After all the only other times Ingrid ever left her side was when she rested and always woke her mid-afternoon for tea which they took together. The remainder of the evening was spent together until the evening meal which Vytis had claimed for himself. Her husband returned every evening, taking his meal with her alone in her room. He was absolute in this, not even servants disturbed the nightly ritual.

Truthfully even though she was terrified that something could yet go wrong she had never been happier, even in grief of her dearly departed father. Ingrid passed her a cup on a saucer, her tea was made exactly as she liked it, scented with cream and no sugar, "Drink it, Astridr, before it gets too cold."

She brought the tea carefully to her lips, curving them over the rim of the cup as she watched Ingrid settle the tray on a table at her bedside. It smelled oddly pungent enough to make her nostrils flare but as the tea hit her mouth it tasted satisfactory so she drank it without further question. Later she would politely ask her sister to hold back on such a strong brew next time but it seemed unbefitting, not to mention ungracious, to harp on her beloved sibling over the strong concoction of caffeine and cream.

"Are you alright?" Ingrid surveyed her over the rim of her own confection of sugar and cream.

"Just tired," she smiled softly, attempting to appear much stronger than she felt. The pregnancy was draining as it lingered onward so much that she feared the labor would be altogether debilitating when it came. Every day she slept more and more, as if gathering energy to prepare herself for a task that would absorb so much. Even now she knew that it was close to the evening meal which meant she had slept her day away. Her tea remnants laid neglected, it was too strong for her to finish. Finally a knock on the door, "Come in," Ingrid said allowing a female servant to admit herself, "My lady, Lady Ingrid, his lordship is back. Already the evening meal is being prepared and sent up."

The cue was clear, Ingrid was expected to leave. Vytis however appeared before she had departed causing Ingrid to rise to her feet in haste. Ingrid approached to collect the tea tray but Vytis spoke out, "Leave it there, I would like something warm."

Ingrid graced him with beautiful smile, "Of course," curtsied and left.

* * *

Vytis immediately went over to the tea tray and his nose blanched as the strong smell of spearmint hit it, no doubt one of the scented teas that Astridr seemed to favor but at least half of it was neglected making him wonder if, even diluted down with cream, it was too strong for her liking. He poured himself a cup of hot tea and downed it in one gulp before coming to the bedside and kissing Astridr fully on the lips in welcome.

They had not been able to lie together in passion since she had quickened with child but still he could not get enough of holding her or kissing her. It was quite typical of a male to take a mistress in the interim of their wives pregnancy but he could not stand the idea of hurting Astridr with such a tactic. Therefore he spent his evenings with her, so she would always know where he was and took attending to his needs into his own hands. Astridr cherished the fidelity and it served to further the intimacy of their passionate marriage.

At half past six dinner was announced in the hall, typically their trays were delivered ten to fifteen minutes after. In the interim they spoke: about his day, her day, the child, the future. It seemed to brighten her, to lessen their mutual fear of the impending childbirth. He still feared for Astridr since childbirth was famed for its complications and the death that followed in its wake. Likewise Astridr feared of living up to the expectations of failure. He had to remain strong and positive for them both. Their trays were set into place and he rose to get some wine for himself and milk for Astridr. However as he turned to pour the drinks he heard a clatter only to see her tray overturned onto the floor and Astridr who had been sitting up was doubled over in pain.

* * *

Agony splintered through her, a sharp pain unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was not the baby simply kicking her. She felt her body strain as though trying to purge the babe, fighting against it even though she knew this could claim her life. If she delivered improperly without a midwife present the child would likely be lost through miscarriage and after carrying it for so long she couldn't bear the loss. She felt warm arms curl around her as she moaned in pain, her eyes rolling upward, "Summon the—"

"It's already been done," she felt his lips caress against her forehead which already felt heated to the touch. She knew that he'd be ripped away from her for the ordeal of childbirth so she took what comfort she could, gritting her teeth as her body absorbed the abuse of the volatile contractions – blows that felt like they were going to cleave her into pieces. Finally a voice, several voices, skirted at the edge of her awareness.

She heard the voice of a female ordering hot water, blankets, the rest of the list was lost as she faded in and out of semi consciousness. The arms supporting her had not yet been ripped away which meant Vytis was not yet gone. A glass was raised and tipped against her lips, "…dragon wort! A herbal remedy to stop hemorrhaging, it will keep her from bleeding to death! Now, out!"

A moment later she felt the strong arms release her and knew that the man who they belonged to had departed.

_Vytis…_

She shivered, trying to gain strength enough to concentrate on the labor. Her mind reaching out feebly for the promise of the future, the future they had imagined together, a future that included many children and the promise of his love. Her consciousness solidified around that tendril of thought enough that she was aware and able to contribute to the effort of her delivery when it came upon her.

* * *

Ingrid dutifully swallowed her dismissal with a grain of salt as she settled down for the evening meal with Lady Adalind. The meal had barely started when they heard the call placed for the midwives. The house fell into a frenzy of chaos as servants hurried to get everything needed for the premature labor. The fools didn't yet realize that she was LOSING the child, not delivering it. Nevertheless this would finally yield the chance she had been waiting for. Vytis would not be allowed to linger at the time of the birth; he'd only get in the way in the eyes of the zealous midwives which meant he'd finally be alone…at long last. Ingrid rose from her meal, rising up the staircase towards the adjoined room she shared with her sister. Outside the door her eyes covetously fell upon a figure that was pacing in the hallway.

"My lord?"

His head snapped into attention, his eyes directed upon her but they seemed out of focus as if he was lost in his worries, "It has begun...," he said.

"I-I heard, from the Great Hall. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Nothing," he answered as she reached out to touch him but was not even allowed that. Before she could pull it back his hand snapped around her wrist like an iron manacle, "I thought we moved past this, I don't need the type of 'help' you are offering, Lady Ingrid. If you are going to be of use attend to your sister, she is more deserving of it than I!"

He then released her wrist as if throwing down a venomous snake before going down the staircase and out the doors, leaving the mansion without looking back.

_As long as she shall live…_

The words taunted her but only now did she truly realize the 'truth' in them – if Astridr was alive she would ALWAYS eclipse her.

She wasn't sure which hurt worse: unrequited love or being 'second-best'?

* * *

The labor was long and arduous, it never seemed to end. It was a matter of concern to the midwives; though they tried to be encouraging while they plied at her with their remedies she heard the concern in their voices. The longer the labor, the less likely it would end well. The labor took hours, she lost count of how many, and her mind could scarcely concentrate around the pain. Finally a cry split through the dark room, "A boy!"

_A son!_

She wanted to weep in relief when she felt a massive lurch like that of a somersault and realized it wasn't over, "There's another!"

One of the women attended the first babe while the others flocked to help with the second. Again the hours were lost but her eyes managed to raise, enough to see it was during the day. Her contractions made it impossible to sleep and she was weary, so much that she felt her mind dissociate from her body, and her vision was swaying when she heard the cry that announced the second-born, "A lass! A daughter!"

A cry tore from her lips, blackness almost overtaking her in an instant, "She, she has a third!"

"She's fading."

Out of the corner of her sight she saw the senior midwife thrust a chalice into the delicate hands of a young girl – a servant that had been hastily recruited to help the midwives who were stretched thin between her and the babies. The concoction was spiked with stimulants and pain relievers; she could smell the familiar draught before it was tipped into her mouth with cautious care. A feeling of artificial alertness and synthetic strength swept through her, suffusing her with energy enough to deliver one last time. This time the child came but with no response nevertheless she held out her arms desperate to see. The tiny slip of a girl was deposited into her arms and she brought the child to her breast as unconsciousness clawed over her. The last thing she heard was the voice of one of the myriad females attending her.

" _...thirty-seven hours…will she survive?"_  

* * *

A cloaked figure in the dark held the light of a candle before bending down beside a foul idol depicting a fallen deity. She had everything she needed for the ritual, setting it up just like she had heard. The undead were quicker than the gods to hear prayers and they answer the malevolent and impure wishes of mankind with a ready ear.

She cut her wrist and slowly allowed it to bleed out, to summon the spectral sentinel.

"What are you willing to give up, to acquire what you want?"

She smiled, it was a terrible thing: for a moment of vengeance, she'd give up her mortal soul.

* * *

_The mortal had nearly died…yet she had been happy, pleased with herself. Such was the nature of a mother, to take delight when her children thrive. The memory should have been a happy one, untainted but Freya felt an undercurrent – one of ruin. A foul hand came to rest over Astridr's mortal soul, she was touched by a curse, one that Freya instinctively knew had served its purpose in engineering her downfall._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I purposefully made Astridr's point of view obscure as she was so taxed that she was barely aware of what was happening around her. Feel free to ask questions if you have them. I will try to clear up misunderstandings if I may.


	10. Beloved - Part I

For nearly two day he was in a state of perpetual wandering trying to keep his mind off Astridr's labor as he waited for the news that the deed was done. Part of him feared the impending announcement because he didn't want to hear if things had turned out for the worse. No matter what task he did his mind freely wandered to her and he sincerely wished that he could see her, if only for a moment to know she was alright. Deep down he knew his presence would be more hindrance than help so he endured the agony of the unknown.

Finally, a summons came and he went to the room. The room was dark with the only light provided by a few candles burning low in their candelabras. The muted glow allowed him to see three shapes crammed into an immense cradle slumbering. He had to tighten his jaw as he looked down upon the children to keep from gaping. Their union had been undoubtedly been "fruitful" his mother could hardly object to her openly now, not after this. A swallow as he asked the question he feared learning the truth of, "Astridr?"

A senior midwife, a cautious elderly woman, "We…moved the children away in case…in case her fever sets in upon them."

"Fever?"

"My lord, I should prepare you. The labor was very difficult on your lady. It was a miracle it went well enough but it was a long ordeal. Thirty seven hours from the time you placed her in our care to the time the last babe drew its first breath. A great deal of difficulties can set in, in the time it takes for nigh on two days to eclipse. We are trying…."

"Where is she?"

"My lord, you cannot go to her, not until the fever breaks!"'

"I am master of this house, I will do what I wish and I wish to see her. NOW!"

"My lord, you could jeopardize her by bringing infection to her very bedside."

"Then I will bathe but I will see my wife."

Under the zealous eye of the midwife he had acquired, he realized that although her obstinacy was vexing that she was trying to do the best for Astridr's wellbeing so he tried to allow his male pride to endure her instruction and demands. When he finally passed her shrewd inspection she agreed to lead him with great reluctance. Even immaculately clean she didn't think he should be visiting the ill patient for his good as well as hers.

Astridr was unconscious, according to the midwife she had been that way since the third child had been laid against her breast, in a desperate attempt to revitalize the malnourished babe. Alive, but he had a feeling it was just barely. The labor had ravaged her already faint and fragile form. Her skin was still stretched because of her formerly distended abdomen. A smooth sheen of sweat covered her brow and he could see that the gown she had on was sticking to her. He was no medical expert but he knew that when you had a fever you couldn't allow chill to settle either and that is exactly what she'd have upon her if she was clothed in damp nightgowns, "Leave us."

The midwife instantly started to open her mouth in protest only to be silenced by his voice, a whisper slipping between them, "You do not want to test your will against mine. For one, you will not win. For two, I have the authority to see my commands heeded. Therefore you have a choice: leave us of your own choice or I will have you removed."

The midwife tersely jerked her head in acceptance, departing with a clipped and reproachful gaze. His eyes turned back upon Astridr, his hands clawing at his clothing as he stripped. If he had tried to pull this in front of the midwife he knew she'd have assumed the worse of him, believing that he was taking advantage of trying to stir her to attend to his needs. That couldn't be further from the truth, he reflected as he climbed into the bed next to her, pulling her into the cradle of his arms. His fingers clamped around the damp nightgown, undoing the laces and pulling it off her body. Her skin was damp but not for long. The fact that she was sweating meant her body was fighting its fever but she still needed to remain warm. It would be provided, his fingers caressed along her spine drawing her close in his embrace almost lovingly, whatever she needed he would provide.

* * *

"My lord!"

A voice hissed out of the darkness of early morning, just after midnight. His dark eyes blinking against the solitary flickering of a single candle held in the hands of Mereit. Beside him, was a naked Astridr, warm and blessedly dry; her chills were leaving, her fever was breaking.

"What time is it?" his voice was dry, husky and soft from sleep.

Mereit's eyes rolled back in distress, "Early morning, my lord, you didn't….she needs her rest!"

"I did not take her, I slept with her," he commented, assuaging the handmaid's fears instantly, "What do you need?"

"There is a visitor from Flenceburg here to see you, says you are expecting her."

"I am, I am indeed," the instant he rolled out of bed Astridr murmured his name.

" _Vytis"_

It instantly made something deep inside him stir almost painfully on the inside. He finally gave her a soft kiss upon the brow before clothing himself hastily, "You must stay with her; she is not to be left alone."

"I will not leave her side."

Vytis glanced at her, "Disrobe!"

"I, I beg your pardon, my lord!"

"Her fever is breaking but she cannot be allowed to be exposed to the cold, she is not clothed so she has the benefit of body heat, it's what she needs and you have to give it to her, in my absence."

Her eyes were paralyzed with fear at the very idea, all of its implications, "My lord, you can't have me do this! With you, it's understandable, it is alright but if we are seen. She will be dishonored by adultery, accused of same gender…interactions! It is a sin!"

"No one will disturb this room, it will not be seen. You are the only one I can trust to do this for her. I know you would never harm or betray your lady, and by extension, me."

For an uncomfortable few moments she gazed at him before slipping beneath the covers stiffly, uncomfortably. Underneath the shroud of protective covers she stripped down and only when Mereit finally cradled Astridr against her as if she was still a babe, her babe, was Vytis content to leave.

* * *

He managed to get to his study undisturbed by any inhabitants up at this late hour as he finally took up temporary residence in his study to greet his late night arrival, "Almedha, you look as fair as ever; it is like time has not touched you at all."

Normally his words to others were a formality, a mere complimentary brush but in this instance it was very true. The woman was his great-aunt, his mother's not-so-beloved aunt which automatically made Almedha his favorite. His mother disdained her heretical upbringing amongst magi which made Almedha, as part scientist, part mage one of her least favorite relations. Consequently he had always adored his banished aunt as a child into adolescence and now into his adulthood. The summons this time had been more of practicality than fond memory though.

Her sensual full lips curved over her youthful face, the only thing indicating her age was the matronly gaze, radiating experience, that she fixed upon her favorite nephew, "I have heard that you are father to three, congratulations. I am afraid that I have failed to show in time to lend any of the aid you requested of me."

"You are right and wrong. The children are healthy…," normally that is all that would matter to a spouse, healthy children were always usually welcomed even if it meant the loss of the mother. Childbirth, with its ability to go awry so easily, could rob of both mother and child so to have three healthy children at the expense of the mother. Some lords would kill for that "fortune" but for some reason the thought of losing Astridr distressed him.

"But…?" she instantly prompted as she sensed his voice drifting off without continuation.

"But Astridr is not recovering as well as I would…hope. The reason I summoned you is I hoped that you might ease the delivery, make it easier upon her. She was already ill before the children, the term of pregnancy…," he didn't bother finishing the thought as if he couldn't relive the stress that bearing his seed to full term had stripped vitality from his ailing love, wife he quickly substituted internally, "I would like you to assume care for her. I will dismiss the midwives but Astridr cannot get better results from any but you."

"Your mother would say that relying on my "sciences" is heresy."

"I don't care," really he didn't, "if heresy will spare Astridr from this then I will put my faith in it. You, of course, will be generously paid."

She waved her hands, "I am NOT concerned about that, you offered me a fortune to come here AND paid all my traveling expenses while scandalizing your blue-blooded religious toady society. I would help you just on account of this woman meaning something to you enough to expend a fortune keeping her alive, she must be really something."

"She is," he instantly agreed, going into silence as he dwelled on her words, she was right he was spending a fortune to keep her alive. Inside he told himself it was because of his word to her and her deceased father that he would pay to keep her alive and whole through her pregnancy. However the more he looked at it he began to wonder where his motivations lie, were they personal, was he trying to keep her whole through the marriage?

"Would you like to see her?"

"I would…how long did the pregnancy take?" she rose in unison, following a few steps behind him as he led the way through the silent halls.

"According to the midwives thirty-seven hours of hard labor took about four more before it was concluded and she was allow to drift into undisturbed rest but she went into a fever and hasn't woken since."

"Almost two days, that is a very difficult pregnancy," her gaze was remote, as if in deep thought.

"She has been kept in seclusion, only I have been in to see her since the births occurred," he opened the door, allowing her to enter the dark chamber before following upon her heels.

* * *

Almedha instantly approached the bed with keen interest; there were two women in the bed. From behind her Vytis introduced the conscious one as, "Mereit, her lady-in-waiting."

As her gaze fell upon the unconscious one she unconsciously murmured, "She is very beautiful; I can see why you were taken with her."

"Her soul has beauty to match," he assured, and again Almedha was sure that he had some personal stake in her recovery. The young lord, her most favorite nephew was absolutely besotted with her and he had no idea. It was something she could tell him but she wouldn't, he had to see it for himself. The passion was more than she could taste, as a chemical reaction lust could be tasted but that chemical reaction could only become love when an individual prescribed meaning to it.

_Love is just a chemical reaction; we choose to give meaning to it…_

As she neared the bed her nose wrinkled as her senses picked up the, the stench of stale spearmint but it wasn't that at all. She almost instantly wanted to gag on the scent of wilted toxin. Her senses guided her to a cup of tea, half drunk, cold and abandoned long enough for the dregs to sink to the bottom of the cup. To be sure she lifted it up to her nose and the grotesque odor assailed her, her gut coiling in a tight instant with repugnance. She did not look forward to explaining this to Vytis, "It's  _pennyroyal_ , an abortifacient herb, it is used to induce miscarriage. At her stage in the pregnancy it was a lot safer, a lot easier to carry the children to term though her late timing is the only thing that saved the lives of your children. It was a miracle but they were ready, developed enough, to survive an early arrival."

Vytis was silent as he processed the outpouring of new information of import, "Astridr, she always wanted her child, wanted children, she did not do this."

"If that is the case then somebody likely wanted all of them dead," from the bed the maid looked ready to faint at the idea of assassination or perhaps that any would wish to kill her mistress.

"Dead?"

"Pennyroyal is a compound that is very effective but very hostile to both the child and mother. It's toxic, especially in high doses; thankfully your wife had sense not to drink copious amounts."

Again silence, then finally, "Mereit," he barked, "Dress, go to the children, you are not to leave them alone with any save myself or Astridr or Almedha."

"Your lady mother?"

"No," he said coldly, now he didn't trust anyone with his children save anyone he trusted himself and he did not trust his beatific mother.

She waiting until the maid was gone, "I'm, I am sorry I had to reveal such,"

"No, I am glad you did. It, it can explain everything, why she went into labor early, why she struggled so much, why her recovery does not come…easily," she turned to see him sitting upon the bed, the back of his hand stroking her cheek, his expression haunted. If only he had a mirror to see himself she knew he'd see he was in love. It often took an emotion to know an emotion and Vytis had never been raised by loving parents but he gave it so freely to his wife, if only he could know it for what it was, "it just can't explain who did it…," he finished.

* * *

Under her capable care and Vytis' unyielding devotion, and she meant unyielding, Astridr did recover from the pregnancy albeit at a crawl. It was a disappointment for Vytis to realize that Astridr was as well as she could be, fully recovered, and still be left worse off than before the pregnancy. It had been a trade of life, she'd given him three children and bearing them had shortened her already tenable hold on life, her illness jeopardizing her more violently than ever especially with the approach of the fall and winter months - a season which Vytis was concerned about. Winter last year had been cruel to her and he had good reason to fear that if they were not careful he could lose her this season.

Almedha personally could not stand them but Astridr kept her spiritual advisors despite their uselessness. Likewise they found Almedha to be little better than being a witch or gypsy or even a charlatan and they expressed explicit concerns to Astridr and Vytis that she was a corrupting influence that did not help matters at all. Out of respect for Vytis' judgment and gratitude for her help in gaining what little health she regained Astridr did not dismiss her despite being heavy with suggestions to sack and send her away back to Flenceburg. Almedha took her mind out of her thoughts long enough to focus on what the 'spiritual advisors' were saying today. Even Ingrid, Astridr's vain sister who could benefit from 'spiritual advice', didn't choose to remain around to hear their self-righteous nonsense.

"Are you listening to me, Lady Astridr?"

She guessed he was the most senior of the three because his conjectures were always the most farfetched and from the look of it Lady Astridr was listening and intently. She really wished that the young woman would not waste her time or at least ear on these three misers. It was unfortunately a choice she decided to indulge since Lady Astridr devoutly believed in the gods. Almedha personally thought if gods existed they didn't try to answer prayers and readily practiced what she called 'benevolent cruelty'.

"We have practiced every manner of intervention on your behalf, my lady, the gods have not answered you. The gods would never abandon."

She rolled her eyes as she thought, " _Of course not."_

"There is a flaw within, a flaw within yourself that the gods cannot, will not bear and one that we cannot do anything for save to pray that death will come and cast this aspect of disfavor out of your very soul."

_And HERE it is the excuse that will save them from blame because they can do NOTHING useful._

"Ah, Lord Vytis!" one of religious imbeciles rose recognizing him instantly. Unfortunately he did NOT recognize the signs of almost certain rage curling lividly in cold lines over his face as he saw the spectacle and how seriously it had been received by his wife. It was NOT going to go well. She wondered if he'd pull this out in the hall and have this confrontation away from his beloved or if he'd release it right here and now where she could watch.

"Get out," the words were forced out one at a time, as if it took effort for him to speak but she knew that he was trying to restrain pure unmottled rage from breaking loose.

"What?" one of them made the mistake of asking a single question in confusion and didn't realize it for the mistake it was.

"GET OUT! NOW! LEAVE, DO NOT COME BACK! RETURN TO COURT, SEND NO OTHERS IN YOUR PLACE," he was no longer yelling at the end but it was menacing enough, "You've done enough," he stated and it was obvious he wasn't pleased with it.

The 'holy' men all but fled as if afraid they'd undergo bodily damage next, it wasn't likely far from the truth. Astridr, who had been silent as if in deep thought at their words, was now in shocked tears, instantly imploring him to undo the damage he'd just wrought. Normally she was a voice of reason to curb Vytis' reckless tendencies but in this case Almedha did not believe Vytis was in error sending them away.

"It will be a scandal, you'll displease your uncle, you can't have no, no priest."

Vytis' calmed his rage as he beheld her, his hands resting upon either side of her neck while he cupped her chin, "No, Astridr, the insult was too great and I will not weather that deceit from them. I will not let them place such lies in your mind when you have been nothing but perfect in your faith. You don't need them; you have the ability to judge right and wrong, good and bad for yourself. You can do it far better than they can and I was fool to let them rule you in such a way through your greatest attribute – your morality. You only need yourself and I, I only need you," he kissed her, it was rough but oddly innately intimate, soft and calming. Almedha took the opportunity to dismiss herself knowing that at the moment neither of them would need her, they'd only need and want each other.

* * *

Later that night he retreated from her bed, they were careful now. Astridr shared her bed and he shared passion with her but their union would no longer produce any more children though his uncle was optimistic of the idea of more. Vytis could not endanger her life like he had the first time. Fortunately Almedha knew many ways to prevent pregnancy enough for them to revel together but he couldn't hide the fact that she just exhausted so easily and more than often his body wanted more than she could offer him. His mother solution was as predictable as ever: find a mistress, and he had a good idea who she was thinking of though it would be scandalous to seduce his own charge. He knew he never would, he could never engage in that kind of passion with any save Astridr. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him but everything seemed to revolve so easily, so completely around her – she was his entire world, second to none, not even their children.

His actions of dismissing the priests outraged the royal court at Crell Monferaigne. His mother was so outraged that she went to court to fulfill her 'spiritual needs'. Personally Vytis view that as an added bonus, his mother would not be missed. His Uncle had sent word, the admonishments were harsh but he did not defy his wishes. None were sent to fill the vacancy but his Uncle expressed concern that his marriage to Astridr made him utter ruthless and reckless, a bad combination for heir to his prestigious throne since he was making easy enemies at court. There was also a suggestion colorfully added that he annul his marriage and marry another due to the fact his current issue – his son and daughters – might inherent the same illness that Astridr carried. It was disappointing that his uncle believed in such superstitions. It didn't bother him that he had enemies at court but it bothered him what they were saying about Astridr, she would be their Queen and he didn't want enemies at court to greet her.

More pressing than anything was what to do while the summer days slipped away, something had to be done to help Astridr survive another year and every one after. The problem gave him no sense of peace, his mind never allowed to rest.

"Vytis….why are you up at this hour?"

He turned to see his aunt her eyes glowing almost crimson in the light, he quickly assured himself that it was a trick of the candlelight, of course, "I'm trying to figure out how to give Astridr a better quality of life…"

"Have you ever thought of removing her from this land entirely? Cold weather does nothing to help so think warm."

He gazed up over a map on the study wall, rejecting one place after another until he got to the foreign continent of Yamato – a warm tropical location where they could wait out the winter month. He turned to Almedha who warmed him with a slight and knowing smile as he drew up plans for the journey, carefully commissioning the perfect home he'd give her. If others were outraged by his actions now they had not seen anything yet because he'd not send her down there alone, he'd be with her every step of the way. His duty was here in this country and at its court but his heart took him elsewhere and he was following it.

* * *

_It comes close to the end…and she knows it._

_She thought as she drew back._

_The woman knew she was declining, dying, and the mortal woman did not know how to prepare him and tragically he wasn't ready to let her go. Already fate was moving them apart in different directions and only Astridr realized what it meant. Loving him even as she knew leaving him would, no irony intended, kill her._

_She never regretted loving him even though it caused her pain, she regretted the fact that she would leave him behind and cause him pain._

_Regret…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, I don't know WHY but Almedha almost came out so sarcastic that she was like comic relief. She is really sarcastic and witty. It might be inappropriate but I don't really think it detracted too much from the comment commentary.
> 
> As this chapter warns you things are really going to be going decline fast now. I'm warning everyone once again that this story is a ' romantic tragedy' and will not end well. Its sequel will be the REAL conclusion of this unhappy story.


	11. Beloved - Part II

The last days of Astridr's life were among the happiest she'd ever known. A fact she'd remember as the end approached her. The summer died as she bade good bye to her children, bathing each and every one with the solitary warmth of a mother's love, a love that they would never again feel. Once she left this land she knew that better conditions or not her grave would be upon foreign soil, her children would be left motherless as mere babes and would never grow knowing her. Vergil left with a namesake that meant 'flourishing', a silent prayer for him to thrive beyond the poor genetic inheritance her wilted blood would bestow. Her daughters were named Ismene, blessed with beauty and wit and Eldrene with spirit and strength. It was the only gifts she could give bless them with at birth so they'd have these attributes in the years yet to come, years in which she'd be absent and long gone, buried within her cold grave.

Mereit would stay behind; her old nursemaid would now become the same to her children as she had been to Astridr and Ingrid, the only mother they'd likely know. When she'd finished her goodbye to her own flesh and blood she gave the same to Mereit, hugging and kissing the only mother she ever knew. She wondered if her maid knew that this would be the last time they ever saw each other upon Midgard as living beings. Very few were actually making the journey south:

Vytis insisted upon accompanying her despite his uncle's explicit summons to court. She was not the only one getting ready to depart this world for the next, the king was getting weak and sooner or later he'd follow her into the next realm that awaited the dead but he wanted his heir where he belonged, making the alliances that would keep his blood upon the throne and the country intact. She'd tried to talk sense into Vytis but he'd continued plans for their 'retreat for health' in earnest without so much as a backward glance.

Ingrid refused to allow her sister to sojourn forth without company 'suiting' her sister's station. Ingrid had shared Lady Adalind's distaste for choosing to allow Almedha into her company but unlike Vytis mother she'd had weathered both of the company of the 'heretic' and not lost a bit of sleep or worried spiritually for her soul when her spouse chased the priests straight off back to court. Of late her sister had withdrawn ever so slightly; making her wonder if Ingrid was distancing herself as a way of coping with her imminent decline. Astridr felt sorrow coloring as their relationship diminished. What on earth would this do to her? For her sister to lose not only their father but her as well in such a short, short time span?

Almedha was the last person to accompany them; she was a peculiar but welcome companion. Although her foreign upbringing in Flenceburg was very different from their own in Crell Monferaigne she truly loved her great-nephew Vytis and by extension she felt as if Almedha held some of the emotion for herself as his wife. Time had preserved her very well; she appeared youthful beyond her years. Almedha shared very little of herself but Astridr had learned that she had been widowed over twenty years ago and was nearing sixty years of age. She did not grieve the loss of her spouse, it had been a purely political union of convenience, and Almedha cherished her hard won freedom acquired as his wealthy widow. Beyond that she knew little of the secretive widow though she had to have had some background in a healing of some sort since Vytis often consulted her over aspects of her health. The elder woman had become her constant companion and caretaker since the birth of the children.

The weather was too perfect for the timing on their part to be any but deliberate. Almedha seemed to be able to predict the weather at a glance, she called it 'science' which was able to be learned, no doubt it was a heresy but it was fascinating if not useful. Vytis didn't seem to mind using it at any rate. The conditions were a factor because they would be riding in them. Travel by litter and carriage would drag on much too long so they would manage their trek day to day on horseback overland. The summer warmth was comfortable but not overwhelming, the dry season persisting long this year so they didn't make the journey in the wet and cold.

Almedha and Ingrid had mounted their horses, spurring them over while she stood beside Vytis' massive stallion, like a warhorse. She certainly couldn't climb and clamber up it without his aid. She would be riding cradled in his arms but right now she waited in silence as she waited for him to finish giving directions to the steward, the temporary 'lord' while he was absent. Once they were gone she was sure Lady Adalind would return to assume the mantle of responsibility in his absence once she found out where and what Vytis had done.

Finally he came forward holding out his hand for hers, "Ready?"

What could she say? Part of her wished to die peacefully with all the grace accorded to a noblewoman of her lineage. To pass on quiet and alone, so she didn't have to reflect upon all that gained, all that she'd have to leave behind. That same part of her wanted to keep, to hold onto everything she had. She loved him and nothing would change that, she wanted him to be away so that when she passed on he'd be spared pain when it came. Another part of her, the greedy part, wanted him near as she faded away so she could treasure the love she'd wrested from fate's fickle grasp when she'd married Vytis, the man she loved, the one she'd always loved since first sight. He would not leave, he would be there so she'd not be able to spare him pain but she could hold onto him until the end. The only thing that agonized her was how did he truly feel in turn for her?

"Yes," she quietly murmured as she took his hands, allowing him to lift her up before mounting upon the saddle behind her. As the riding column started with them in the lead she wondered if she'd ever have the peace of knowing what laid in the heart of her own beloved before her time was nigh and her life gone.

* * *

Everything had gone so smoothly, too smoothly, which of course meant now something had to go wrong. She wasn't sure if it was on purpose or coincidental that as her power builds upon her sister's departing health that the woman was to be removed from her presence. For hundreds of years she had existed, passing on through myriad hosts from mother to daughters. Some foolishly had resisted her touch, the taint of her presence and they paid the price. Meanwhile others accepted her but never had a host accepted her fully, not since her body had been broken by Odin's battle maiden. They foolishly thought she had been destroyed at the time of her bodily death but she had survived by siphoning on envy and lust enough to live on the hosts whom possessed those strong, volatile emotions. Now she was back, she was Ingrid and Ingrid was Beliza.

They both wished for the destruction of this one named Astridr. They both lusted after the one named Vytis. Astridr's death could deliver both to their outstretched hands. Her rise had to be gradual, she knew that nearby one could feel her if she delved too deeply. It was a balancing act not to rip away the life force all at once. She was hungry after years of denial, hungry for power one could get through life and Ingrid wanted her death badly. She would deliver but not all at once and she couldn't do it when the host was thousands and thousands of miles from her. Once upon a time she could siphon energy from half ways across the world easily but not so newly reborn in this world, not when this Lord Vytis had a powerful 'pet' mage as the female's companion. The balancing act had to continue so she'd quickly made her move to allow her to travel forth with them and finish the job.

Her 'Ingrid' had been so blunt, so forward in her advances and gotten nowhere but she, she was more subtle now. Ingrid would remain lovingly by her sister's side until death parted Astridr from the remnants of her life and none would known until the damage was wrought too deeply to correct. Astridr would not survive the year, after all she lived up to her word with those who made intimate pacts of vengeance with her. Ingrid had promised her everything if she stole everything from Astridr in turn.

A smile curved at her delicate lips as turned her cold thoughts upon Astridr, layering it with feigned warmth.

_How could she refuse?_

* * *

She could feel it but how could she put it to words. It was beyond suspicions because she felt, knew it was happening. How long ago had she given away her freedom to Hel in exchange for knowledge, power, and the like? Now she was using it, using it to help Astridr and seduce Vytis. Hel desired him as if he was a most precious commodity. If Vytis had been a bit more pious, a bit more devoted to his gods than he would have been an Einherjar upon death but Hel was always searching, always grasping for those she could steal away from the Valkyries, from Asgard. So here she was serving the two of them: Lord Vytis and Mistress Hel.

When it had been a whole household her net of suspicion had been wide and unfurled, she had distrusted everyone from the Vytis's mother to the scullion maids. Now it was just the young lord, his beloved, Astridr's sister, and herself. She could eliminate herself and Vytis with ease which meant that the malevolent presence was no other than the sister. It was not easy for her to confront the idea of accusing Lady Ingrid of the black magicks of necromancy. Lady Astridr wouldn't believe it and she had no proof, she could not give Vytis any proof save perhaps to oust herself for what she was….

Even then he might not believe her, even then he might smite her with a quick stroke, and even then he might believe she is truly at fault. Were vampires not the wicked undead, the ones who leeched upon the strength, vitality, and lives of others? Even now she knew of a possible why to save Lady Astridr even if it wasn't plausible, would that even be forgiven? Holding back?

She knew it was no spiritual weakness that doomed the Lady Astridr to death it was the many curses that plague the innocent women. The physical one was the blood disease that consumed her strength; the other that she felt was beneath the surface was something that couldn't be touched or healed, only resisted. Both could be cured if she was turned. Almedha could give her the kiss of the undead leeching away the weakness of her blood and giving her the strength of the undead, she could give her immortality, but only if she could work up the nerve to offer it.

* * *

The back of his hand softly brushed her hair exposing the delicate beautiful line of her slack, slumbering face to his appreciative gaze. Most of the journey when he didn't engage her she was asleep as though she was trying to wrest extra strength from her snatches of sleep. He was doing his best, doing everything he could humanly do, and it wasn't enough? The idea agonized him, made him more desperate than he'd ever want to admit. How could he hold her in the cradle of his arms and do anything less than cherish her? He wouldn't lose her without a fight, he couldn't and it was more than the delicate promises he had made, he had a feeling it was the very meaningful one he had made as a youth at their betrothal and renewed at their marriage.

… _as long as our love shall last_

Was he in love? How could one really tell? He wasn't sure but he knew he couldn't just let her go, let her die not when he wanted to keep her whole and healthy, happily within his arms, beside him upon the throne he'd inherit, beside him as they lived their lives, beside him as they grew old. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he had many dreams for the future and all of them included Astridr. Vytis knew he had been enamored of her beauty, gentility, and grace from the moment he'd seen her at age nine but when had it surpassed that fragile admiration of beauty for more than that?

It would be difficult to tell her any of this without sounding like a fool. Marriages amongst the nobility were alliances, friendships at best and love was regarded as a, a fairytale. He was sure she'd not laugh at him but how to stay something so unbelievable and make it believable though he wasn't sure if he was still trying to convince her or himself.

* * *

Between concerns for Astridr's health and his own interpersonal conflicts the days melted away into weeks and soon they were nearly there, approaching the shore line where they'd take a ship to approach the Yamato continent. It appeared as if Almedha's advice wasn't amiss. The warmer climate and fresh air did much to improve her visibly. She was more often awake, enjoying the fairer aspects of the calm, soothing weather.

Astridr stripped her shoes and stockings off, enjoying the feel of the sand and water beneath her bare feet. Her love of the wilderness and the natural world was still there in their world at home she never would have been able to enjoy going barefooted. From where she sat on her horse Ingrid looked scandalized and Almedha, impassively nonjudgmental. He thought about approaching her, to speak about what was on his mind, he opened his mouth…

"My lord?"

He closed it before glancing in the direction of the interruption, "Yes?"

"We are ready for you and the Lady Astridr," the man spoke in a heavy oriental accent dripping with sincere servility. Astridr gave him a warm smile and he forced himself to do the same though he was cursing the lack of nerve that made him delay speaking to Astridr so plainly and the man's untimely interruption. Once they were upon the boat he kept silent for a different reason, so she could see the investment he had conducted in building a private retreat down here, a home away from home especially for her use.

* * *

It didn't differ in design; it was just as oriental as the rest of the settlements upon the isle. The difference was in the rich grandeur of the building, the grounds, and the location. The estate, she had no other word for it, spanned high upon an outcropping looking over the sea. It was like and yet nothing like the dwellings of the common people in the town. The people built their dwellings out of practical necessity, the building she saw was that and more, it was truly a place of beauty. Tears of mirth came to her eyes as she realized that it had been built not merely for her needs but FOR her. Astridr had to blink to banish the delicate drops that had been gathering, her soft blue eyes suffusing her spouse in grateful regard, gathering her voice enough to bring out two words strung together, "It's beautiful…"

Vytis looked relieved, as if her reaction set him free of some inner turmoil, as if her reaction mattered to him above all else. She doubted that but she knew from his reaction that it did matter to him at least a little. They reached a mooring dock; the man tied his boat down as Vytis reached out to help her down. The oriental man quickly finished his task and reached to help down Almedha and Ingrid. Vytis did not wait for them though, already guiding her up the graceful arch of a slope. The outcropping was high but she noticed that the path was not steep. It was easy to follow him without losing her breath. The journey had been easier upon her than she'd thought it would be aside from momentarily short attacks that were few and far between she'd felt strong, energized almost. She had also neglected Almedha and Ingrid since Vytis had demanded all of her time. It was a matter she'd have to rectify at a later date.

She stepped over the threshold, it lacked the 'lived-in' feel of every other property she had ever left on but she knew that it would change from this moment forward. They took a traditional supper alone together and afterwards Vytis checked on how her companions were settling in to put her at ease. He had insisted that the journey tired her, she should rest. A few of the servants had accompanied them on the journey down, traveling ahead so they'd be ready to attend them when the lord and lady arrived but currently none were present leaving none to attend her. Soon Vytis returned in silence, "They are settled but you are not, is it not to your liking?"

"It's not that…," she felt obligated to say something but truthfully how could she tell him all this effort on his part would be wasted when coming down here was supposed to do good for her condition, "I am tired but I waited for you," it wasn't a lie, she was so used to him sleeping with her that she found she had trouble settling down when he was merely absent, "I don't suppose you want…," she flushed realizing it had been a long time since they'd last done more than slept together. He had to have a will of steel and iron because he was ever-patient with her even if his patience never extended into any of his other dealings.

"No…I am alright. The journey has been long, forced, and no doubt tiring. I just wish for you to rest, rest and get strong," he drew her into his arms neither bothering to undress, "I want to keep you with me, to keep you close…" he whispered on the wind. Astridr wasn't sure if she was meant to hear the words, she was sure he had said them long after he felt her body fall lax in his arms. Right now she would have done anything, within reason or not, to grant him this wish, this want if she could.

* * *

The fair weather and climate did much to improve Lady Astridr's physical health but no longer was that the sole monster that hounded at her heels. Almedha could do nothing even as she knew what was occurring. Something evil was at work; she felt the chains as they coiled about. Ingrid took as much time with her sister as she could within reason and Astridr was left worse off for the poisonous contact. In many years Almedha had never been wracked with such indecision as she was now. Should she endanger herself for another? The very idea or impulse was stupid. She could accuse Ingrid but she'd have to reveal the why and how she knew. Vytis could either take it as truth and sever the connection killing his beloved bride or deny the claim and quite possibly attempt to kill her just for what she was. Every day she worried that the magically talented Ingrid might feel her for what she was and blame Astridr's weakness on her appetite.

Whenever Ingrid came to Astridr at daybreak she smiled as if knowing her malevolent magic was doing its job and during daytime Almedha could do nothing to safeguard the innocent woman falling prey to her sibling, a woman who should've shared and reciprocated Astridr's blind love.

Decision came and she prayed it was not too late, she had to find a time to speak with Vytis alone, something that was easier said than done to be sure. He gave daylight hours to Ingrid and spent evening, night, and early morning with Astridr. Almedha could not speak to him during daylight. On the journey down she cursed the fact that daylight restricted her. During the way down she had made up numerous manners to excuse her during the day and made up distance lost between herself and the others at nightfall. Her one chance came only when Vytis instigated the conversation, unfortunately he called her before sundown and she waited an agonizing hour before heeding his call, it left him in a bad mood when she finally got to him. His self proclaimed study was a mess, paper and ink spattered over the walls as if he had overturned his desk, to hell with the consequences.

"Why?" he asked and the tone was riveting, she knew he wasn't asking why she'd delayed answering his summons for an hour, "Why isn't she getting better?"

He was asking in an attempt to search for answers that eluded him, it was now or never. She had to try to tell him the truth and hope he made the best of it.

Almedha inwardly exhaled a breath she'd been holding, allowing her hands to smooth of her dress in a nervous gesture that she normally did not allow herself, before stepping forward, "Do you remember the holy men? The ones you cast out?"

A frown appeared, his brows creased in incredulity, "Surely YOU don't believe such a thing?"

Vytis knew well she didn't believe in the gods, "Of course not," she murmured smoothly.

"Then why mention it?"

"Because I believe were guessing without knowing, and it is closer to the truth then I ever dared to believe," she held up her hand managing to command his outrage to instantaneous silence with a gesture, "not because of Lady Astridr's astonishing measure of faith or morality," she held back a snort of reproof, "you and I know that conjecture for the nonsense it is. I feel something, some curse poised at her feet, an unseen mire she is wading through. Something malevolent is baying for her death, dragging her down and it has nothing to do with her physical health. I advised you to come down here because another winter in the North might kill her because she is ill. Here, the problem is invisible, chronic, nothing she can escape from. She grows weak because she has allowed something very wrong to be near her, to be near her and to hold fast and close to her."

"And you feel this because…?" even he sounded like he was thoroughly tired of her, he had given her more patience than most but he had expected results for having her close at hand and she had not delivered the results he desired.

"Anyone with the right training would be able to feel the toxic presence, it clings to her being. I feel it so intimately not because of my magical affinity, I feel it so clearly because I have an affinity with the dead. I can give you the answers no one else can because I, I am not longer truly alive…"

* * *

"You, you are undead?" his voice sounded vague, almost lost, as if he was trying to recover, trying to recover from downright shock. A part of him long ago would have taken a blade and staked her heart with the cold length. Based on Almedha's guarded readiness she didn't think it would be out of turn for that to be a possibility, "How long have you known this?"

The woman, almost a stranger at the moment, paused as if to think on her answer. If she had known all along and never told him Astridr's fate he'd want to kill her, if only for not giving him insight which could save her, "I could not feel it at first, I only felt it with certainty the stronger the being got, I only felt the spell when it gained momentum…I am new, strong but young," she sighed heavily, "fallible. Even with my experience I know no way to save her except…only one and it would be something to be stomached by yourself and her."

"What is it?" Vytis swallowed, he had defied so many rules and restrictions, both holy and noble that he had not hesitated to ask for help from a creature that should have been put down, not if she could help him, help Astridr.

"I could turn her. I can leech the weakness out of her blood, giving her new life through a clean death. I can give her the strength of eternal life, enough strength to cast loose this enchantment that would destroy and leave her for dead in your arms or at your feet."

The visualization was powerful, almost enough to draw him into blind emotion that he hadn't known would spring to life. Vytis knew that he should never ask this of her but he knew he'd not let her die without making the choice, if there was some chance that she'd choose to fall to remain in this lifetime with him then it had to be taken, even though the result could either damned the both of them or destroy him. To accept Almedha's 'kiss', the kiss of an undead, was damnation without question but to lose Astridr without attempting everything, to lose her without a fight to the absolute finish, it would leave him with nothing worth living for.

* * *

Astridr shivered, knowing that it wasn't cold that reduce her to trembling but the knowledge that death was going to come on swift wings, soon and she had not prepared him. Footsteps approached the bed and knew just from the weight of the footfalls that it was Vytis. Without any hesistation arms enveloped her, wrapping her in warmth that chased away the cold but not the creeping sensation that was purely the ruin of death, she wished it could chase away her fate. A tear fell down her cheek before her eyes clamped close, shutting down the waterworks before she turned to gaze at Vytis.

His lips were warm, vibrant, and full of life as they pressed against hers, as if he could exhale breathe the vitality of life into her if he held her fast to himself, close enough to himself. She could not allow her tears to yield to her own distress but she couldn't hold them back against his desperation, they broke free railing against the unfairness of fate in striking down the one true lovematch out of hundreds of bitter marital unions and infidelities. Once upon a time they'd both believed their union was a thing, cold and lifeless, but it was living entity that existed between them and it would die only when the grave parted them.

"Astridr?" his voice sounded as though broken, pleading, begging and she knew what he was about to say. When things turned for the worse he had refused to allow her too far away from him, she had heard everything in the quiet of his study, everything between him and Almedha. She knew what it cost him to even ask and it cost her just as heavy a cost to deny him the false hope – the desperate measure offered to them both at the most critical of times.

"Vytis, please, do not ask it of me; please do not let me hear your lips beg for me to be what I cannot, to be what I will not become. Don't turn me into a monster for a blink of eternity. Everything dies, it is the natural way of life, it is what makes us mortal. I do not want it but I'm dying, I know and I've accepted that fact: grudgingly, bitterly, sorrowfully, angrily but I've come to terms and accepted the fact. Loving you has given me the greatest happiness I've ever known in this life but it will never allow me peace as I depart from this life."

"You ask, ask for the impossible," his tone was gravely, he'd never be at peace with her death. Vytis had never said the words but she knew he loved her, loved her so much that he would never be prepared for her death. If she was selfish she might've asked him to leave her, allow her to die alone so that her turmoiled soil could pass on with less difficulty. It would be cruel to pass away in his arms but she knew that if he had choice he'd never leave her willingly.

That last night neither of them slept just sat in silence, both were afraid to say anything that would make the parting more difficult in the end. As hours passed her breathing grew shallow, the time between breaths getting further and further between. She was afraid that the time in which she took her last breath would sneak up upon her, robbing her of her life without her knowledge. She wouldn't allow things to end between her and Vytis, like this upon her deathbed. Her hand reached out and found the smooth expanse of his strong cheek. She wasn't sure how long she cradled it against her hand but finally she pulled on the last reserves of strength to press her lips against his.

The kiss was unbridled, strong and furious in emotion, as if she put all her strenght into this last expression of love. She allowed the emotion to draw upon everything she had, leaving nothing behind in the wake of her last breath, her last moment. Then she surrendered, let go, and was no more…

* * *

Holding Astridr in her final moments was like holding water, lovely and etheral but inevitably she slipped through his fingers no matter how tightly he held on. He felt her lips press against his and closed his eyes, just feeling her in those last moments, and long after she grew lax in his arms he cradled the dead weight of her body, his eyes closed all the while. As if he believed that if they stayed closed he could preserve that last sight of her alive and that would make it true. Dreams never stay long enough; they always depart before you want them too. Inevitably he woke up, blind with tears, empty and hollow within, "I love you…," he said too late, "I loved her," he said to the emptiness, looking towards the heavens with the vengeance of one cheated and wronged.

* * *

_Freya didn't need to breathe and never felt shock normally but she was frozen in entirety, riveted when the man's gaze raked over her. She was being a fool, he couldn't see her, he was gazing to the heavens. The gaze was not a friendly one, it was the glance was of a man who had lost everything and had nothing, nothing save bitterness, resentment, and rage. Normally a mortal did not concern her but this one, this one made her look back a second time. Fate had taken Astridr from him and they, the Gods controlled the three goddesses of mortal destiny. In this case, they'd made a powerful enemy in taking this course of action. This one would be one to watch…_

_Reciprocated Love…and she had thought this disaster could get no worse…she'd been wrong, VERY wrong._


	12. Forced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a difficult chapter to write, lots of content to cover in a short time frame. 
> 
> The important thing to remember when reading the next few chapters is that now the Gods are NOT looking back on memories, they are presently involved in the affairs of Midgard after Astridr's death. Their POV's are still written in italics. Enjoy!

_Lost within her thought, Freya scarcely noticed the grandeur around or the manner in which she walked through luminous halls when she typically glided through them with ease. It was pure foolish to dwell upon the mortal, they – the Aesir had nothing to fear from a lowly human but Odin had long trusted her to give attention to details that most others overlooked. She'd NEVER deign to accuse him of oversight but underestimation, maybe. Underestimation came easily to them all…_

_It had been so in the case of the human Wylfred and look how far he'd gone. He had bested Lenneth! True that his victory had been a hollow one in the end but it was the very reason the Valkyries could not repeat Lenneth's mistake, could not possess their memories – the memoirs of their human lives and experiences._

_Hrist would not likely aggrieve the loss of self to the 'Seal' – she considered mortality a taint, nothing short of background noise to her task as Valkyrie. Lenneth and Silmeria, on the other hand, were softer, more empathic No she, Freya, was sure that leaving the mortal around was inviting the possibility for him to get creative and ultimately prove to be more trouble, more harm than he was worth._

_The magic of sealing their memory was new. Gods or not, it still held true that perfection of an art only came through practice over time, neither they had in any great abundance so she kept a healthy dose of skepticism when it came to possessing faith in the seal she'd finished placing on Silmeria. The Seal was NOT perfect – better safe than sorry, the human had to go._

_Normally she'd give the orders to Hrist through the Water Mirror and would do so without running them through Odin. As Goddess of the Second Rank she was one of the few he trusted to implicitly but she felt she shouldn't push back Silmeria's awaking and order Hrist to take a detour on Midgard without his knowledge. She took a moment to stop walking, mortified that she had reverted to such a common mortal habit and restore gliding altitude before she entered the throne room. Freya had been about to prostrate herself before Odin or as much as she ever did when he asked her a question, a one-word question, "Silmeria?"_

" _She is ready, the Seal is in place."_

" _Hrist?"_

" _I can summon her back in an instant…"_

" _But you have not done so," Odin observed, he was entirely too keen, though sometimes she wasn't sure if it was for his own good or not._

" _No, I am concerned about that mortal I left on Midgard; I do not believe I should've done so."_

" _You normally do not second-guess yourself, what threat could such a mortal be to us?"_

" _I don't fear his existence is of consequence to us but the Seal, it's not nearly as strong or infallible. I would be satisfied if he was removed from Midgard and I do not wish to bestow this task upon Silmeria."_

" _Hrist will remove him."_

" _Years ago he was a strong and valiant, I would have believed he'd be an Einherjar chosen upon his deathbed. He has been rendered bitter by the death of Silmeria's human host who had been his beloved. That makes for a powerful hatred; nevertheless he isn't strong enough to be any threat to us save within Hel's grasp."_

" _I see what you are deducing and only you think in such a fashion, Freya. Never has your judgment been in error. Do as you think you must. Speak to me when Hrist has returned and Silmeria is ready to awaken."_

" _I shall…"_

* * *

Without Astridr his life was a mere shadow of its former self, a pale imitation devoid of happiness. He invested a great deal of time learning how to preserve her remains enough to bring her back home. Although he wasn't particular fond of his home he knew that nothing but grief lingered on that foreign soil, at home he'd have responsibilities, duties to attend to. The inherent responsibilities of his life would at least act in such a wait to distract him from his grief. In the time it took him to return home he barely ate or slept so when he returned home he looked like an utter stranger. His mother actually backed up, offering no words of greeting, she was frozen in mute shock. Though there had never been love between them there was once upon a time that he would have offered her words of comfort.

Vytis wasn't sure how often he ate or how long it had been since his last fitful sleep. It became necessary for Almedha to act in his best interest, she used her ability to cast a trance to force him to eat or sleep. The young lord was so unused to living without his young bride that she occasionally slept at his side to give him the unhealthy illusion that he was not alone and that she was his deceased beloved, those hours of blissful ignorance certainly yielded more sleep then if he was left alone. She had rather hoped that sooner or later he'd start to show signs of improvement but he showed no improvement in the slightest.

This caught Lady Adalinde's unwelcome attention and his mother's immediate intervention consisted in the form of a visit from no other than the King himself, "It is not well for him to dwell so deeply upon his departed wife," Lady Adalinde commented to the King as they strolled through the gardens one day. Almedha herself was trailing behind them; she had actually been invited by Lady Adalinde as she was Vytis' closest confidante at the time.

"Indeed," his uncle said uncomfortably in his low bass rumble, "how long since he has last eaten?"

Auberon's question had been directed to Almedha, her niece instantly turned to her and Almedha instantly wished she had not come here at all. She wasn't going to mention that she was force feeding him through mental compulsion, "I had a tray brought up by the servants last night," she said levelly, "he appears to have eaten it. I don't stand over him and feed him as if he was a child," that was closer to being a blatant lie then she wanted to admit, she did everything short of feeding him by her own hand. Her reproachful words struck Lady Adalinde with enough reproach that she flushed. Unfortunately she regained her nerve, "I am concerned for the country as a whole, if Vytis is to succeed you someday he cannot do so like this. I think it's in his best interest to put this whole Astridr affair behind him."

"How dare you!" Almedha grit her teeth hard so she didn't show them fang in the moonlit garden but it was hard. It was bad enough that she was more concerned about the good of a country and her son's place within its hierarchy than his own feelings but she had the gall to dismiss his first love like an unfortunate scandal. Almedha seethed, the instant rage made her incisors lengthen, poking out of her gums with singular ease, "She was HIS WIFE, not some strumpet. Their marriage may not have lasted far beyond the first year but it wasn't without deep emotional connection, something like that doesn't end without deep emotional consequence," she may not be able to show fang but she allowed her eyes to convey enough malevolence to make Adalinde unconsciously ill at ease.

"I meant no offense to her memory, my words were poorly chosen," the woman said, the fact she said it so easily without stuttering or apologetic tone made her know it was no accident. Adalinde was speaking her mind, about how she felt about the relationship.

It was the King who broke the tension, "You need not concern yourself, Lady Adalinde, not with that. Before I came here I had come to the conclusion that the death of Lady Astridr likely boded ill for Vytis," he pulled Adalinde's summons from his pocket; "I met your courier while en route here. I was already going to call upon Vytis to inform him that I've arranged a match. A second marriage should allow him to move on while giving a sense of closure to the first."

"Who?" it was not Adalinde but Almedha who asked; truthfully she was in utter shock. If either of them knew Vytis he'd not welcome to prospect of another bride nor would she be able to make him forget Astridr.

"Lady Ingrid of Aurelien, she has been at court, she is quite distraught over her sister's death. They are well-matched; they will be able to help each other get over the mutual grief they share."

Almedha wanted to tell them how absurd the idea was, about how naïve they were but she was struck mute and dumb from the announcement. Would Vytis marry Ingrid? Not bloody likely…and not without a fight…

* * *

That night Almedha danced attendance upon Vytis, trying to get him to eat before his uncle could see the haggard shell of a man left in the wake of Astridr's death. He could eat and sleep all she wanted but he still appeared as a shadow of former self. Grief took some manner of vitality from him and nothing of the material world could give that back to him. Astridr had taken his heart with her to her grave. The moment she'd heard the absurd notion of his betrothal to Lady Ingrid she'd felt obligated to prepare him but she realized there was no easy way to tell him. She lost the chance when she heard a knock at the door, the servant bowing low before speaking, "His Majesty, King Auberon, to see you…"

Vytis finished off a healthy shot of brandy that likely wouldn't bode well for his common sense before he replied, "Yes, bring him in," it had been so long since she'd heard him speak that his voice sounded dry, raspy. As if his throat was already accustoming itself to its disuse.

When his uncle came she remained, though she was sure the King would want this conversation with Vytis alone. She was sure that if she stayed that she could de-escalate the conversation if things got out of hand, she wasn't sure if she trusted Vytis to be sane enough not to do something foolish like drawing a blade on his uncle. The King noticed her, "You may…"

"Almedha will stay!"

The tone was impertinent, authoritative, and predictably his uncle acquiesced. He was such a weak little king, weak compared to Vytis who was merely his heir. She'd seen kings browbeat their heirs into obedience but Vytis was the one in charge between these two. The conversation didn't even start and she knew what would happen already based on the first few minutes. The King would tell him about Vytis' betrothal to Lady Ingrid and Vytis would throw it in the King's face and tell him to go to Hel. Almedha steeled herself as the King spoke, "I have come to ask you to return to court. I understand my first request months ago was ill timed, I asked you to leave your bride as her health…declined. I, of course, understand that your place was with Astridr."

King Auberon was trying to be slow in unveiling the betrothal; it would have been a smart tactic if he didn't act so submissive to Vytis'.

"I am not ready to return to court," he said flatly, "I have to prepare to lay Astridr to rest and I have the estate to manage before I can even think of leaving."

"I have already planned to have Astridr laid to rest amongst the royals in Crell Monferaigne with all the honors due to a Princess of Crell Monferaigne."

"What about the honors of a Queen?"

"Astridr was not a Queen, she was a Princess, when you ascend that title will go to your next bride."

"I am not going to remarry," he declared flatly, "Astridr is the only wife I will ever know. I lived up to the terms of our agreement, our marriage was fruitful; we have given Crell Monferaigne three heirs of the Blood. I believe she is due the respect of a Queen as my wife and mother to our heirs."

"Vytis, I am not yet in my grave. I may be willing to work something out about the honor of her last rites but your future has already been arranged. Your marriage to Astridr was a good marriage, you were a very devoted husband and it bodes well any future women in your life but you have shared her decline to such a degree that it is unhealthy. You would stand to benefit from moving on, in fact I've already chosen a match and your mother, she has given her blessing, she is even pleased with it," he spoke rapidly as if getting it out and over with would give him peace of mind yet his tone was slow, soft, as if coaxing a beast.

It wasn't far from the truth, Vytis looked deathly calm as he sat upright, the serenity of his posture was an outright lie next to the fury of his gaze. Almedha instantly put a hand upon his shoulder, allowing her mind to twine around his as the physical contact established the mental connection betwixt them. It prevented him from leaping out of the chair and doing bodily harm to his uncle who appeared not the wiser about his distaste for the 'arrangement' they'd come to behind his back. His rage that reached his eyes was heard in his voice, "That wasn't our deal, Uncle," he spat out in distaste, "Astridr gave you the heirs you wanted so badly, it lead her to her death less than six months later! I sacrificed my beloved wife to Hel's embrace for the continuation of your bloodline!"

Almedha's grip tightened on his shoulder as he tried to vault from the chair to slam his hands against his desk. The frightening snarl on his lips is what made the King back down…for now. At least for all his weakness she could say he was smart, "I understand this is a shock to you, I will leave now, I'll leave him in your care, Almedha, is it?"

Her lips formed into a frown of grim disapproval as she nodded her head in silent affirmation. The king rose and left, only after his footsteps retreated beyond even her hearing did she release her hold upon Vytis in silence.

* * *

_What have I done?_

He was angry, so angry. Angry at the gods for taking Astridr from him, angry for them denying her the paradise she'd so duly earned, but for the first time he realized that the rules, restrictions, and desires of his family and the upper class had a hand in Astridr's final fate. They had played out the power plays according to the rules, played the games that the upper classes thrived upon. There had been no choice, his father and mother never would've given the marriage blessing unless it resulted in children, to continue the family name. Even his uncle had pressured Astridr and himself into bearing the children, into bearing the fruit that would continue the bloodline of Crell Monferaigne's kings. Astridr had been used, sacrificed to continue the legacy of small insignificant things like family standing and name. The pregnancy hadn't killed her, not on its own but she never recovered the same strength of life she had before the taxing nine months. He wasn't even sure if he considered his own children a worthy trade for the loss of their mother. Even after she was gone, he regretted allowing her to fade away in his arms. Even now, he knew he'd pay any price to have her back, any price.

For the first time in days his eyes fell upon Almedha as she scrutinized him in concern. She been at his side like an ever constant presence, like the loving mother he'd never had and had always been denied. Now he saw her differently, Almedha was no more a monster than his own pious mother, he certainly trusted her more than his own mother. When she had admitted to being undead a part of him had been horrified by inbred prejudice but now he looked at her in calculation. She was one of the creatures of nightmares, of the dark demesne. Almedha belonged to Hel and so did Astridr, he licked his lips in an uncustomary sign of nerves, "What does it cost to get an audience with Hel?"

_What was he thinking?_

No preliminaries but instantly fear flew into her crimson eyes at his question, "Vytis, please, do not put yourself in her debt, do not deign to bargain with her! Please."

"You cannot divert me, Almedha. Even if there was no chance of restoring Astridr to life I would barter for the absolution of her soul from Nifleheim alone. If you cannot or will not tell me then I will find others who will speak."

Almedha responded but it was not her awareness behind the words that came from her mouth. Her crimson eyes narrowed, glittering in sweet anticipation, her words curled into a seductive purr that was utterly unlike her, "That is most unnecessary. I am here…," Hel paused, using Almedha's index finger to trace along the edge of Almedha's perfect cheekbones.

Vytis flashed a glance upward, to meet Almedha's eyes and saw pure terror coloring her already pale features. At seeing that uncharacteristic fear in her he felt outrage for Almedha, reduced to a helpless puppet in the mere turn of a moment. It made Vytis wonder if the Underworld's Queen had been waiting for this very moment, for it to cross his mind to bargain with her. A petulant frown curved at her lips but it was aimed at Almedha, as if Hel didn't have the slightest problem with using another's body to conveying her personal reactions to the person trapped within, "Naughty, naughty Almedha, working against her mistress' wishes," she tapped Almedha's cheek lightly as if she was hitting Almedha, not herself, "how disappointing, did you really think I would leave him be, leave him to you in such a delicate time as this? I will have to deal with you…," she ALMOST made it sound lamentable but there was no mistaking the eagerness in her voice to 'deal' with Almedha's disobedience.

"Could you get out of her?" he was more than a little irritated not to mention ill at ease.

Hel turned her attention upon him, glee flashing up into the depths of Almedha's eyes, quashing the terror shining there before, "You wished to talk, yes?"

"Yes I did but can't we do it face to face."

The smile deepened, as if she would love to have the opportunity, clearly she didn't have any problem undressing him with a gaze at first meeting. He hoped that Almedha didn't share the Hel's awareness, "If you wished to talk to me face to face you'd have to die though I am not sure if you'd done enough evil for the Valkyrie's judgment to yield you into my keeping," she placed a pale hand upon Almedha's bosom, as if gesturing to herself, "this is the closest you are going to get to speaking to me…but I will leave her alone…for now. Sleep," she murmured as if to herself and the light of awareness in Almedha's eyes died making it all too apparent that only Hel made her body stand and move, the goddess had just snuffed out the vampiress' consciousness with a single word, "There, better?"

"Yes, for now."

The goddess smiled, "Now, let's gets onto business. You wished to barter for your beloved, your," she paused, "Astridr."

Vytis didn't like the sincere smile at her face; it was like one who had memory of when they enjoyed a particularly sweet morsel, one they weren't likely to forget. It quashed any thoughts in his mind of heeding Almedha's brief advice about pulling out while he still could, "I want her back, intact, unharmed, alive."

"What are you willing to give me?" the Queen asked.

Vytis had been moments from asking what she wanted but instantly quashed the words before they came forth from his mouth. It was an open question, one that the Queen of Nifleheim would be sure to love since it would allow her to dictate the terms of price and payment. No, he'd not give her an open-ended easy time of this transaction, "My soul for hers, I will yield my place in paradise for hers in Nifleheim."

"Well that is certainly a better offer, the soul of a strong warrior in exchange for a faint damsel,"she said after a moment's consideration, "but you do not just want her soul, you want her back, alive and well. You cannot have both for so little a price. I demand equal payment: a soul for a soul, life for life, yours for hers. If you are to have it all you will give it all in turn. You will serve me, belong to me in life and death and she will be your bonds. Do you accept?"

"I will be killed; I will not be with her?"

"If you accept, you will be 'killed' in a matter of speaking, you will be turned but I will not restore her to you only to deprive you of her while she will yet live. As long as you live you will serve me in secret and once you have died you will be mine. Do you accept?"

Her eyes tightened, capturing his gaze as if unwilling to allow him to slip free of the pressure she was placing upon his shoulders. The pressure seemed to build, as if it would overwhelm him if he didn't speak and soon, "I do, I accept."

A smile of fulfillment reached her lips, successfully earning his capitulation made her glow with radiance, "Now…now I will tell you what you must do in order to get your inamorata back. Odin accuses me of stealing souls from him but he is guilty of the same. His agent, the thief, is Valkyrie – Lady Valkyrie. It is she who has Astridr currently but such a weak female was never meant for the halls of Valhalla, she was stolen out of spite and still belongs to me. You will confront this thief, you will confront the Valkyrie and through doing so you will obtain the soul you desire. Remember, Vytis, as you are now you would never be able to match a Valkyrie. You need me, you need my help, my strength to fell her so don't think about turning back or turning your back on me. Tomorrow night I will send an emissary to you, they will turn you and you shall serve me in exchange for your female. I suppose you might be more comfortable getting the intimacy of the 'kiss' from someone you know, shall I send Almedha to you?"

"Yes," he said quickly, sure that he'd not like any other vampire feeding off him. Almedha was probably the best he'd be able to get, "And she will not be harmed?"

His voice was stern and the Queen's eyes flashed before she frowned, like a child deprived time to play with a new toy, "I suppose you will consider that part of the deal. You drive such a hard bargain even to the last. Very well, you have my word. I shall not harm a hair upon her head."

Vytis couldn't believe his audacity, "That's not good enough, too vague."

Shock took over Hel's features before she laughed, it was a high and cold tone that sent shivers down his spine even though it was a laugh of pure mirth, delight, "oh you do know how to play our games. I will be careful in underestimating you! Very well, very well, you have my word! No harm shall come to Almedha from myself or others for withholding your confidence from me. While the body of your beloved awaits the return of her soul, death will stay its touch. The body will not decompose; she will appear as if only sleeping."

"What did you mean when you said she'd be my bond?"

"Once I cast the spell I cannot rescind it save through direct means but her fate is of enough interest to you that I know. You will follow through if it means having her back or not. You care more for her then you do yourself, if I control that which you hold dear then I control you. Take me to her; I will lay the spell upon her now before death takes any further course."

Vytis felt a slight stirring of reluctance to reveal Astridr's resting place to Hel, as if the knowledge could be useful though he couldn't explain why he felt that way. Practicality won out over reluctance, hunting the Valkyrie could take time and he couldn't let her body decay. Hel placed Almedha's delicate, pale fingers over the hollow of her throat. He was no mage, he felt no stirring of power flaring to life but as his eyes gazed upon Astridr he noticed things that his senses could detect. The smell of decay slipped away, her muscles began to regain what little substance they'd possessed in life, and her coloration was pale but it lacked the pale gray pallor of death. She looked like she could be asleep save for the fact she was not breathing, "It is done," the Queen of Nifleheim declared, "I will send Almedha to you tomorrow. Be prepared to live up to your side of the bargain."

"I will," he said, trying not to be defensive, the Queen of the Dead merely smirked at him and then vanished. With Almedha asleep and no personality to command the body Almedha's body fell against his. He had outstretched his arms to catch her once he realized she was going to collapse. For a moment he was afraid that Hel would come back and he'd be holding her in his arms but Nifleheim's Queen did not. Vytis wasn't sure where to place the vampiress for her safety, Almedha had never handed herself to the mercy of others by sleeping where her secret could be discovered by the unwary. He finally decided to lay her to rest in Astridr's bedroom, it was hard to place another female where the memory of her was so strong in his memory but no one would expect another to be in those chambers. In fact he had forbidden anyone to disturb the chambers shortly after returning home. As quickly as he could, he placed Almedha's unconscious form upon the bed and retreated to the sanctuary of his own, except he wasn't alone…

* * *

_She sensed the undead; it was a trait inherent to all the Gods, to be able to sense their taint upon the nine realms if only vague. However, spiritual concentration was a technique unique alone to herself and her two sisters: Lenneth and Silmeria. It allowed them not only to sense the presence of the undead but how heavy the concentration of their power, how entrenched their taint upon Midgard or how widespread their vile influence. Hrist Valkyrie was about to descend if it wasn't for feeling a sharp spike of pure undiluted ether flare to life at her back. Reluctantly she released her hold on the hilt of her blade, reining in her desire to quell the rising undead and submerse herself into yet another dance of blade and blood. Her dark amber eyes turned to behold Freya. Normally she'd have bowed low but in midair that would be difficult and the goddess didn't look like she was here for long, certainly this was no social call, she was here to dispense new orders._

_By way of greeting Hrist mentioned why she was lingering here, poised to strike out, "The undead gather but for what I cannot say, they gather near en masse as if by invitation."_

" _It is why I am here, they gather around their lady, their Queen. She had made a conquest this evening, one she wishes to defend and protect. It goes without saying that we can't let her keep him."_

" _Him?" she was shocked, she had expected maybe a valuable artifact or at the very least a valuable piece of land or holding of strategic significance but an individual?_

" _These highlands are called Lorraine; its young lord is irrational with grief. He is a danger to all thus you will remove and take him."_

_Rarely did she ever question Freya – and by extension through her – Lord Odin, "He invites Nifleheim to his door yet we welcome him into the folds of Asgard?"_

" _Like any Einherjar, Lord Vytis of Lorraine is merely a mortal but he is enough of a prize that we cannot suffer Hel to have him."_

_Hrist blinked, inclining her head in blind obedience, "It will be done."_

_No more had been wasted from that moment, her path was clear. She had to confront the young lord this evening before things could get worse, much worse. She penetrated the estate easily, using her astral exoskeleton – her spectral visage to shift through physical obstacles. Sooner or later she'd have to materialize fully, to inflict harm upon a mortal she'd have to be physical to impose a mortal blow, a mortal death. Rarely were mortals killed at the behest of the gods and even more rarely were they accepted as the 'Chosen', the damned were dealt with accordingly and sent to Hel._

_Hrist took her time exploring the house, the information could be useful, she had to make sure that she could silence this Vytis before he could escape or worse alert the household, and by extension – the undead, to her presence and purpose. At that moment presence skirted just as the edge of her awareness, a prickling irritation, she drew her astral blade soundlessly turning to meet the intruder. She was shocked to see not an enemy but a human, a human embracing the undead like it meant something. It almost made her want to retch, there was no mistaking it for what it was but he knew and he cherished her enough to hide it, safeguard it, for when the man reappeared he'd left her in the bedroom she'd just searched._

_Her hand tightened on her invisible blade, part of her wanted to place her blade through the undead he'd just left another part of her wished to place her blade through his back, to strike him down while it was opportune. Hrist Valkyrie mastered the urge, allowing her blade to lower before she returned it to her sheath with reluctance. Business first which meant she had to finish the young Lord – a man of twenty, twenty-one years at most. From the sight she snatched of him grief had aged him beyond his years, he was such a fool for believing he could gain from an unholy alliance. Clearly the lord had less faith than his father and grandfather and now he'd pay the price, what a waste._

_Or was it? She smiled, regardless of his unworthiness, she'd recruit him and by force if necessary. They had nothing to lose, she just had to subdue him, it would be for his family to mourn his loss with his death so rapidly approaching on his heels. Literally her steps ghosted his own, he entered his bedroom through the door and she followed like a shadow. The door closed before she got to it, her insubstantial form stepped through the solid wood before solidifying. She had to give him credit his physical senses were satisfactory, even extraordinary for him to sense her mere moments after her appearance in the 'flesh'. He'd be an excellent Einherjar, shame he'd not be willing, shame indeed._

* * *

It was a shadow at the edge of his peripheral vision, a slight stirring change in the air, a strange feeling of unease had been eating at his gut that alerted him. He had thought it was his dealings with Hel. In a way it was just that, the Valkyrie here to claim his life and judge his soul mere minutes after the deed was done, the Covenant made. He was fast enough to change his alignment; he was not fool enough to present his back as a target to the Valkyrie. There was no mistaking her for anything less then what she was.

Her hair was as pitch black as the feathers that ornamented her helm, her armor a purple so pure that in darkness it could be mistaken for obsidian, her eyes were cold amber, so cold and calculating. It was the last which upset him, she looked like she was looking to purchase, looking to buy and he wasn't selling himself. He'd go to Hel before he'd be a slave to the Gods after what they did to Astridr, to him, to them both.

It was a shame he didn't have his blade, he would have love to sink it through her at that very moment, to obtain Astridr. He had not thought she'd seek him out, he always imagined he'd have to hunt her. He wished this confrontation had happened in the study, his blades were there. Astridr had been uncomfortable around his weapons, he'd had made his room a place of peace and love for her, showing none of the remnants from his past profession as a warrior. Past for the fact that he'd never returned to the armed forces, once he'd settled with Astridr he'd never left her side for long. In death he had not even changed this; he changed nothing as if bringing a tool of death would have disturbed the memory of her.

Vytis regretted it now, only slightly, but blades were not the only weapon he had. The body was always a weapon – a weapon of last resort and brute strength. There was no words to be said, he attacked her. The Dark Valkyrie moved so fast, his fist missed her entirely and she vanished from his sight. He felt like a foolish bully taking a swing at a smaller kid that was too fast to hit, it took him a moment to recover from blinking, a moment too late. A gauntleted hand crushed around his throat and threw him against a wall, a chuckle, followed by the first words, "You can't expect to compete against me…if you had any chance you starved yourself of physical strength, and grief took the rest of you!"

At the best of circumstances Vytis knew he couldn't compete against the Valkyrie, Hel had been right he would be no match, none at all. The Queen of Nifleheim clearly had not thought he'd be targeted between tonight and tomorrow, neither had he and they had both been wrong. Again he stole to offer challenge and again the Valkyrie just tossed him away, this time into the headboard. Beneath the weight of his back he felt the wood crack, this time he knew he'd suffered damage enough to cripple his speed. The Valkyrie leapt upon him in an instant and before he knew it her blade sunk into a sheath of thick flesh and warm blood. He would have screamed but her wound had been purposeful – he would not speak ever again. She crushed his throat; slit his vocal chords with a single thrust, now he had only to die in silence.

A tendril of awareness swept against him, at first he thought the Valkyrie had moved, physically brushing against him when another tendril of thought slipped against him, between them, around them, binding them he realized with mute horror. The Valkyrie was touching his mind, the bitch was trying to take him, trying to take him for her own. Even dying, he rebelled, trying to pull his mind out of the mire of hers. The Valkyrie tightened her mental grip on him, like pulling the reins of a horse, casting another attachment around his, as though trying to leash him to her will. His mind bucked, slamming into hers with brute force, determined to die free of her entanglement. At the same time his attack hit her mind, she'd cast another, throwing it over him. The thought was heavy, imposing, stronger than any of her other attempts to bind him to her. It was different though, he blinked suddenly aware of her – it was not a comforting thought to know Hrist Valkyrie. He even knew her god damn name! A smile, cold and cruel, curled at her lips as if letting him know he failed moments before her blade sank deeper into his flesh, casting him into nothingness.


	13. Eternal Lament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am forewarning you all that some mild levels of profanity have slipped into this chapter. The Einherjar apparently cuss around one another xD Read at your own risk!

The years bled away before his eyes. No longer was he able to remember how long it had been since he'd been dumped into the keeping of the gods. Many counted themselves lucky to be chosen, some were 'barely' deserving of the title 'Chosen' but he did not delude himself, for one moment, into believing he deserved to be there. Escape was improbable, for Asgard was a labyrinth of floating isles – one it was impossible to traverse without divine aid. Einherjar were reliant on the Aesir to get to most places. Few magi were trusted and allowed to command teleportation magicks in the shining realm. What could he remember? Vytis remembered little, the time grew to be so long that he afforded his attention only to the most important experiences: his first days and the end. He remembered his escape with particular relish, the cherished freedom he'd grasped with open hands…

The first days there were spent in recovery, recovering from the Valkyrie under the care of Eir. In recollection she was perhaps the only God he did not despise, the only one he regretted betraying. Grudgingly upon first meeting her innate kindness had painfully reminded him of Astridr. The first day she had treated his physical wounds and left without a word. The second day she had the misfortune of choosing to speak, to inquire after his emotional well being. Beyond the care that his rudeness could offend the Aesir to enough displeasure for them to kill him he had asked in turn where her compassion had been for his wife.

At the time, to him, it had been a valid albeit bitter question haunting him.

Eir had been kinder than he'd ever thought the gods could be. A smile, small and sad, curved her lips showing the sincere grief she felt on his behalf, for his internal suffering, "You continued to pray to me on her behalf long after you forsook all the others gods…"

"You heard me? Yet you did nothing? Why did you do nothing?" he sat upright despite the pain that lanced upright along his back, the pain was good – it cleared his mind to feel anger and outrage anything besides just the pathetic sensation of useless sorrow.

"Your anger tells me much of what she meant to you. You are not the first who has asked this of me, this particular question. I did not stand idle, allowing your prayers to fall on deaf ears," she paused as if cutting off the words  _like others_ , "I heard you but even I cannot contest the will of the All Father – Odin."

The answer had been a hollow one, devoid of any comfort, with no peace he could glean from it. However, it had been the only answer Eir could give him; they were both forced to accept it even if neither one liked it.

The goddess of Healing, from that moment onward, seemed to take special interest in him – into healing the wounds of his heart. At the conclusion of his recovery Eir offered him a choice, one which would make his centuries amongst Asgard bearable – return to Valhalla or remain with her in Lyfjaberg. Vytis never ended up leaving the healing halls of Lyfjaberg. He devoted what strength he possessed to protecting the only god he'd ever respect. Eir had failed him but he could respect her love for the sanctity of life. At times it hurt because of how much Eir could remind him so much of Astridr, so much of that which he had lost.

* * *

The days each slipped into the next, the years melting away with quiet ease. Peace reigned in the shining realm until an event known as  _The Mists of Nifleheim_  occurred upon Midgard. Rarely had visitors besides the ill and infirm graced her halls or called upon her company but one night Freya appeared. Eir had retired to rest within the gardens of Lyfjaberg. Vytis was at her side, always was, he was her protection against all things. Eir did not dismiss him lightly; in fact she rarely did at all. Freya simply acted as if he didn't exist, "The impact of the Mists spread further. I come at this late hour to ask a favor on behalf of Lord Odin."

Eir, who didn't have it in her to be cruel or turn anyone away in need, smiled in benevolence and acquiesced, shifting aside as if allowing Freya to settle down beside her. The Second Rank goddess remained hovering where she was in midair as Eir initiated the conversation, "What may I do to be of assistance?"

If Vytis had been able to voice his opinion freely he'd have asked how Eir could be FURTHER assistance. Already she'd allowed most of her personal guards – her protectors of last resort – to go to the field, everyone save himself. Eir had released any Einherjar able to fight despite her misgivings about sending some to their deaths and of course she healed the survivors of the brutal scourge upon Midgard. The Mist of Nifleheim was the first time in a long time that Queen Hel of Nifleheim had waged divine war upon the plane of the human world of Midgard, to date it was one of the most brutal wars ever seen – a desperate invasion attempt.

It took him everything to swallow his words, words borne of protective outrage but Eir gave Freya her small, tragic smile, "What more can I do? I have sent away my blades that they might bestow my mercy upon Midgard in defending it. I have done as you asked and release any and all fit for battle into your keeping. All my healers aid those upon Midgard's surface, acting as direct intermediaries in a capacity, a way that I cannot. You tell me how much further I can aid you and shall do whatever I can within reason."

There WAS nothing further she could do in reason. Perhaps that is why he finally spoke up or perhaps it was because he truly could not stand the life around him, everything and everyone subservient to the wishes of Odin and Freya. In hindsight his words were not wise to hold in his mind let alone voice them aloud, "Lady Eir has done MORE than her part! Can you not see she is driven to weariness? From healing, from intervention, from answering prayers for mercy?"

The impact his voice breaking in upon their conversation was instantaneous. Eir's face drained of color, almost making her pallor appear less than god-like; she was almost human to his eyes in those few moments. A pure strain of fury slithered through the air as the fertility goddess' rage took over her facial features. Eir recovered from her shock before Freya could act upon her rage, "Freya! Please don't, he speaks of concern for me!"

Eir's plea was the only thing that saved him, made the Second Rank goddess back down. Still her rage writhed, he could sense it from how the wind stirred malevolently around her floating form, moments before her eyes met his in hatred, "Perhaps HE can be part of THAT intervention of which we speak," she spat out the last word making it apparent that he was never welcomed in their conversation, "if his blade is as good as his tongue he 'might' be useful, useful enough to be worth sparing."

Eir stilled her tone serious, "Vytis is the only protection left to me. I, I will have to think on it," it was not that she was so dependent upon him; it was a serious ordeal to strip a goddess of her entire retinue, serious enough to make Freya back off.

"I did not realize your martial commitment in this conflict was so deep," Freya's eyes bored in his direction, "once the conflict is pass we will see that you are adequately recompensed so your guard will exceed this," she gestured at him dismissively as she vanished leaving them to the silence of the garden.

He'd bit his cheek, to keep from reacting to the insult she'd given at their parting. Eir's gazed out across the garden allowing several long moments to stretch between them before she spoke up, "What she asks for….I've been given time to consider it but they will want an answer sooner or later. It is not my decision to make, many would say you have no choice that my decision is your choice but I cannot send you, send anyone, forth into the madness suffusing Midgard when it may cost you your life…"

Here it was - the chance he'd long been waiting for. So long had he wanted opportunity to just get away from it all, more times than he cared to admit he didn't want to live the hollow existence that continued to stretch endlessly throughout time. Eir had been fair and just and kind to him, enough that he was grateful she gave him a life of purpose up there but enough was enough. While he was up in Asgard he might possibly live forever in a silent agony that he alone understood, one that he had no hope of recovering from.

He had taken the ultimate gamble, risked everything, and lost. During life he'd risked everything to spare Astridr, all his money, all his prayers, all his attempts had been nothing. Her life had been taken despite it all and he knew part of him had died with her that last evening. Even in death he'd tried everything and still failed in the end. There was no doubt in his mind that Hel had likely believed he'd defaulted on their contract – the covenant. His heart twisted painfully in his chest at the thought of her body becoming the unmistakable decomposed husk of a corpse. Centuries amongst the Aesir and he'd never crossed the Valkyrie since she'd had first attached the chains of his enslavement about him.

It was a poor way to repay Eir but he wanted the oblivion proffered, all the better if it came to embrace him sooner. There was no easy way to tell her but he had to, he couldn't continue living on like this, as if believing that if he lived long enough he'd grow out of his memory and eventually forget everything. Unfortunately he knew better, "I care for you, Eir, more than I ever thought I would but I am tired. If I cannot find Astridr in the next life, if I cannot be with her then I would rather find oblivion and let it take me."

A sigh, heavy with sorrow, came through her lips, "Some wounds, it seems, are beyond my healing. I will let you go if it will ease your suffering."

"Nothing will ease it, Eir, this path will merely end it…," letting him go to his final death upon Midgard was like euthanasia, like killing an animal to end its suffering long after there was no way to help it any longer.

* * *

It was how he returned to Midgard but where he meant to meet his end, fate had a new beginning in store for him, waiting to unfold before him. Though he was thoroughly exhausted with living he had no intention of falling without a fight. Truthfully he would have been pleased to be set loose upon the armies of Nifleheim until his reaped his own death. Instead he found himself becoming a single face among many. It was disorienting, to return to the concept of belonging to an army – a regiment. It had been so long since his years serving in the army during his lifetime and in Asgard his tasks hadn't gone beyond serving in the function of a guardian – a solitary position that required little team play or coordination. He was pleased to find out that his practice with the blade hadn't been a waste, his skill had greatly been unaffected by the disuse it suffered.

The difficulty in protecting Midgard did not lie in protecting them from powerful individual demons but in subduing the sheer numbers allowed to cross over from Nifleheim to Midgard through gateways. To cut down the invasion they had to practice prevention as well as annihilation, they had to stop any more gateways from being opened while destroying the numbers upon Midgard. Instantly upon his arrival on Midgard he'd been given the task of hunting the few powerful demons able to open the 'gateways'. These precious gifted few were well protected, entire armies bowed at their feet making it necessary for the armies of Asgard to amass in great number just to approach the target.

At the time he joined the forces of Asgard they were collecting for an assault upon the island of Dipan – it was to be a massive staging point of invasion for the North, one that could open into a direct assault upon Crell Monferaigne once they crossed over to the mainland. Crell Monferaigne was the strongest asset the Aesir possessed upon Midgard, the threat Hel's war provided was very real and not likely to be forgotten by the Gods of Asgard again. She had brought them to their knees in a neutral realm, was poised to take their head in fact. No wonder they'd been so desperate, desperate enough to leave their own realm practically deserted.

"Vytis!" a voice broke through the reverie of his observations; it was an eager male who was rather young for an Einherjar. Vytis had no doubt he was brave but also had no doubt that the same bravery was the reason he had died, "We've arrived early, they're sending out the orders for half to go on guard and half to rest up. I'll take first shift."

"That's alright, I can stand guard," he said mechanically, not prepared to be patronized when he was the veteran in terms of years and experience as Einherjar.

"You'll get your chance," he said stubbornly, "I wasn't the one who was just staring into space. Rest up; I'll wake you for your shift in a few hours."

He was about to argue when he stopped, it would be pointless and who was he to argue? He couldn't deny the fact he wasn't paying attention, not without someone calling him on it. Besides maybe he'd get a chance to sleep long enough to dream. The mere hope of reaching that elusive peace under the veil of sleep it was always worth it. His dreams belonged to Astridr, they always belonged to her, it always made him reluctant to wake and return to the nightmare of reality but the few moments of bliss were enough to make him happily weather cutting his heart to the quick upon waking.

* * *

_Her beautiful sunlit hair streamed past her slim waistline, glimmering underneath his appreciative gaze. Astridr turn to face him, her eyes lovely enough to rival the clearest of skies, her petite lips curved into a smile she seem to reserve especially for him, "Vytis…_ _I've been waiting but not long, don't worry! I've just been admiring some of these specimen of flowers you've gotten me," a radiant glow suffused her facial features as she turned full in his direction, "You've really outdone yourself in providing me beauty enough to appreciate for the whole of my lifetime. I look forward to sharing such a beautiful world with our child."_

_His eyes followed down to her abdomen which was swollen, heavy with child. Without preamble a_ _n easy smile curved at his lips. Personally he thought the garden paled in comparison to her but she always appreciated it, "If you are not by my side, I can always find you here…"_

" _It's my sanctuary, one of them," her eyes ghosted up to meet his and he realized that she thought of him as another, by the intensity of her gaze he was the one she went to for solace, peace, serenity. His eyes couldn't break that connection between them, he didn't, he hadn't even realized she'd crossed the distance between them until she placed her soft silken palm against the strong muscles of his torso between the_ _folds of his unbuttoned shirt, resting it over his heart as if transfixed by yearning only for her eyes to flutter upward to focus on him. Swallowing and breathing properly had become difficult in those few innocent yet provocative moments searing between them, and he felt as if it would only give him relief if he touch her. He didn't reach out with his calloused hands, just a subtle tip of his neck, bringing their lips to touch in the softest caress but he'd remember it forever._

* * *

"Vytis, VYTIS!" someone was shaking him awake and he was furious, so god damn furious that he drew his blade and swiped at the air in one smooth stroke, "Fuck! What is your problem?"

"What is yours?" he was seriously pissed off that he'd finally had the first dream in years it seemed and some trigger-happy moron had disrupted it. It took him a moment to get his emotions to slow down long enough for his logic to catch up, it was too loud – around them he heard too much – the sounds of weapons being readied and sheathed, screams of battle and blade in the distance, "What the hell is going on?"

"That is WHY I woke you," the young Einherjar cursed, "the battle has begun on the South side of the camp. They're holding off the undead and we sneak up the mountain and slit the throat of the magi bitch who is charged with opening the gateway."

"Why the hell didn't you wake me for my damn shift?"

"Uh, hello, it wasn't time yet, you only slept a few hours, my shift wasn't done. Gear up and get moving," the young Einherjar left and a wry grimace curved at his lips, like hell that youth would ever step in his shadow. It wouldn't take him long to heed the orders and ready himself, unlike some he didn't sleep until he was ready to fall into battle stride upon waking.

Battle, as always, was chaos, tactics and strategies and the best-laid plans could fall apart in a short few moments leaving warriors with a bone-deep weariness as they bathed themselves in blood. Numbers would help but he knew much of the warriors would fall and that very easily that defeat or victory would lie upon one individual out of hundreds making it to the magi before another onslaught was opened upon Midgard. Within mere moments of enterring the conflict he'd already sacrificed his hearing, it was impossible to hear threats encroaching upon himself when they were heard coming upon them all from every direction. Sometimes he found that the undead would get too close for him to use his blade effectively and he'd fall back upon brute strength, using his fists. He wasn't sure how long he'd been fighting but his arms started to throb and ache from the constant weight of the blade that he was surprised to find that he'd thrown the crude weapon away, abandoning it in favor of his fists.

The feeling of swift and merciless retribution, it was wonderful, calculating and unforgiving in a way that the blade never could be. You'd never get up close and personal when you had your enemy at sword point, the carnage would always be a blade's length away. No more worrying about keeping your blade clear of allies and the cumbersome metal no longer would weigh down his agility, stripping him of his greatest physical asset. He was no means a professional when it came to using his fists but it came naturally, as if it was meant to be.

Vytis fought until no more enemies came at him, he looked in the distance and saw a whole host of undead fighting other Einherjar. His ears were still ringing with the echoes of blade on blade, flesh colliding against flesh, the scent of death heavy on the air. Only sight seemed able to serve him in this current circumstance. Suddenly he felt a prickle upon the back of his neck; it was almost as if he had a sixth sense, one which sensed the approach of something. A tall slight female, for it was undoubtedly feminine, was at his back behind him. Upon her graceful feet she spun, readying a spell upon her fingertips in the time it took her to spin 360 degrees. Suddenly he realized that he was starting at his death in the face, he'd never get to her in time to kill her before she killed him. Maybe he would have with a blade but never using hand-to-hand combat. The force of the spin combined with the gale of summoned magic flung back the hood of her cloak, with force enough for him to see the visage of his enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was REALLY short, only a bridge chapter really.


	14. Crimson Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter contains a lot of memory content so the memories appear in italics AND the not memory stuff appears in regular script.

_Almedha…_

That moment seemed to last forever between them, silence hung upon the air, their actions barely frozen in the nick of time. Her gaze flickered over his shoulder and in an instant she released the magic upon the Einherjar around them to devastating effect, a smile curving at the corner of her lips, "That's better," her crimson eyes flickering upward pinning his own and delving into their depths in a single glance, "I saw you throw away your blade a while back. I'd expect to see that of my own people, for our claws and fangs do us credit in battle but is that what Asgard is teaching their Einherjar now? To throw away their lives in a berserker's rage?"

"I don't know about that, I'm still alive in a manner of speaking," he knew his voice was hollow; he'd not yet accomplished his aim of throwing his life away but something about the sight of Almedha stayed his hand as if her appearance would change things. He had known since he'd been forced up to Asgard that as a vampire she might cross his path upon a distant battlefield. The fact that they had both crossed each other and stayed their hands regardless said much about how it had shocked them despite not being wholly unexpected to meet this way. At first Vytis hadn't been utterly sure if he believed if she was real, the thought of any small contact with his previous life seemed surreal. The vampiress certainly looked different but where the years had been unkind to him she looked better off if only slightly.

"On my mercy, Vytis, my restraint is the only reason you stand," it wasn't a threat, her voice was merely matter-of-fact, outlining the fact that if she hadn't stayed her hand he would be feet away and not standing after the blow fell. She turned her back on the distant battlefield, gazing at him over her shoulder, "Come, we will leave this battlefield behind us for now. Your allies should be grateful; your presence here buys them time

"And now you are at my mercy…," he reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back so her ear was mere inches away from his mouth, "at this distance, with your back to me, I could drop you to the ground and plunge my fist through your heart before you could ready another spell."

The thought made her pause; she conceded with a graceful tilt of her head, "Perhaps though that only removes the threat of magical attack. You may never have seen me in full strength but you well know I am beyond human and with that I possess all powers inherent to the inhumane undead of Nifleheim. You have seen what power the undead possess, what strength they have brought to bear against mortals and gods alike, you have seen armies cut down by that strength, that power. I suppose that is why you are here, to stop me from releasing that next wave, the death blow of defeat. Don't answer that now; we are not safe from being overheard. Wait," enforcing her command upon him through repetition. Although he wanted to speak he obeyed and followed her.

As he ghosted Almedha's delicate, calculated steps a shadow danced at the edge of his periphery, quickly drawing his attention. At first he'd thought by some manner of necromancy that Astridr's corpse had been animated, strung up and used like a puppet. The need to find out her fate, in the long run, suddenly hung heavy in his heart and mind as he surveyed the woman before him.

_Not Astridr…definitely not her._

Where Astridr had been slight, frail, and endearing this woman was angular of face, full of endurance, and oddly unyielding in demeanor. Long waves of blond hair hung down to her waist just as Astridr's had but where Astridr's physical features had been strong and radiant this one was faint and pale. His eyes met and lingered upon the female's, there was an odd weight to them almost emotional but it wasn't emotion for him and they weren't Astridr's. When he had stared into Astridr's eyes they were the clearest blue of the spring skies, the highborn lady before him had eyes of icy blue, her eyes were cold where Astridr's had been pure warmth. After he recovered from the shock of her personal appearance he only then began to survey her as a threat, he was lucky that Almedha didn't pose him threat thus far or he had no doubt that this vampiric virago, for warrioress she was, would have easily cut him down in the time it took him to recover from reminiscing.

Almedha stepped up, coming from behind to the right of his shoulder, "Sid'ren," she ordered softly, "See that I am not disturbed by anyone or anything! Vytis, come."

The female was covered in ebony armor that looked strangely large for her lithe form, a light warrior armored by the gear of a heavy warrior. Her eyes snapped off him as she finished her own judgment of him, turning to Almedha, her head inclining at the neck in an affirmative bow of deference before she stalked off. Only then, when she was gone, did Vytis turn to follow Almedha.

Almedha stepped into an empty clearing; it would have been perfect for ambushing. There was foliage surrounding a clear area devoid of any cover. Almedha turned to him and stepped forward until she was before him, her arms reaching out to touch him, her hands resting on either side of his neck just below the jaw line. Her crimson eyes were inscrutable but he sensed something akin to grief and relief, undoubtedly emotion, somewhere he thought Almedha cared about him, maybe even loved him as much as she was able to care or love about anyone anymore. Finally he spoke, "So you are the one we are dispatched to kill. I should've known. Fate is a thing of irony, fickle in all things. I must admit considering Queen Hel's displeasure the last time I saw you with her IN you. I am a bit surprised to see, to find you the one leading this particularly important invasion."

"Vytis, you have been removed from the events of Midgard for centuries," she said in an almost exhausted voice as if taking pity upon him for not realizing the fact," I have had centuries to change and I hold the Queen's favor now," a cold smirk came to her face, "she doesn't know what is good for her….I've aged, gotten stronger and wiser, though where you are concerned little has changed. I'd much prefer to keep you out of this sacrificial crossfire if I may but I suppose you are going to try kill me, aren't you?"

"You know I won't…," it was truth; he wasn't sure where their relationship stood but somewhere in theirs it was unspoken support. They'd both been raised amongst the high born at court where affairs of the heart didn't belong and love was displaced easily by the upmost importance of titles, name, and legacy. It wouldn't surprise him if he'd been the first person to love her; the fact that what she had become hadn't repulsed him endeared him all the more to her. Of what he remembered her husband had been cruel and her children just as heartless as their sire. In his mortal life he'd been the only one to offer her any comfort or affection as a member of her family, her own blood no matter how distant the relation.

"Strange, I did not take you to be so sentimental considering how little time we were allowed together in your mortal life."

"My feelings towards you goes further than my loyalty to the gods."

Almedha's eyes flashed at the mention of the gods, "You owe them NOTHING that should never have been, your loyalty was never theirs for the taking or to command, you were meant to be mine. When I woke, finding you dead, I made a pact that day, a pact written of your spilt blood:  _I would not rest in my final grave until I had done everything to avenge the injustice of your untimely end._  It is that hatred of the divine which brought me into the Queen's favor, brought me here to this very time and place to meet you now. My hate and loathing became everything for me; my vengeance became that of a mother robbed of her only child. Your cold, dead blood bound you to me as mine in death and now you are no longer beyond my reach, now I wish to reclaim what is mine. Why do you pause in silence, surely you do not think yourself beholden to those who raped you, denying you a fate of your own choosing?"

"I am silent because I must ask something I'd probably rather not learn," his throat was heavy; it took almost everything to swallow and speak past his fears, "Astridr?"

The pain was raw in his voice, if the news was bad he didn't even want to know but he HAD to. If Astridr was even remotely intact there is nothing he wouldn't do to try to live up to the Covenant he'd been forced to abandon. Almedha offered him immortality but he'd never embrace eternity if it didn't include Astridr, not even for Almedha. If Astridr was truly dead and gone he'd attack Almedha and he knew he'd die at her hand. She was right, she didn't need to unleash the fury of a spell to kill him as a vampire she could do it with her bare hands.

"Safe," declared Almedha, "Astridr is safe, I saw to that," there was a soft honesty to her voice, "When you were taken I knew Hel would be furious, that she'd think you'd betrayed the Covenant and take it out upon Astridr. I couldn't allow her to defile her remains; Hel wanted to drain her remains dry until her bones were naught but dust. I had hoped for the chance to reclaim you and restore her yet. My patience and sacrifice has been rewarded."

"Sacrifice?"

A tragic smile sprang to her lips, "Hel did not allow the transgression of you getting the better of her, making her out to be the fool, to go unchallenged. She took her rage out upon my hide as blood price – it was compensation for denying her what she wanted, her revenge for my defiance and your betrayal."

"I'm sorry," he truly was, remorse colored his features, he could only imagine how grotesque Hel's blood price would prove to be.

"Don't be. From what I understand you bargained yourself for my safety, in the end it was fruitless," she stated, "but a nice gesture all the same. You showed more care in that single moment of mercy than anyone has in my entire lifetime. If you wish to repay the debt, I demand it be done in blood, the only mortal aspect of any material value to a vampire. Allow me to turn you, to help you cast off the chains the gods placed upon you, and I will guide you to the fulfillment of the Covenant you swore to Astridr centuries ago."

* * *

The years had changed her much but one thing that had been left unchanged was the impulse to right wrongs committed to Vytis. Of course she didn't do it solely out of the goodness of her heart. The years amongst Hel's court in Nifleheim had broke most of her emotions, smothered others, and made her hide the rest. Nothing she did was out of the goodness of her heart, that was just…stupid, it had been the first of several hard lessons she weathered through the ages of her own eternity dragging on. She had an agenda but her agenda could only benefit Vytis. Yes, he had suffered enough, suffered plenty and she'd not add to that, she'd use him but he'd be left better off for the price he paid. It was something she told herself as she seduced him into accepting her 'kiss'.

There was a difference between receiving it now. If she had turned him years ago, upon Hel's command, he'd would have been sired and subjected to blood oath, forced into utter fealty to Hel of Nifleheim from the moment he consumed her blood. It had taken her all these long centuries to figure out how to free vampire kind of the 'curse of loyalty', the curse passed on from sire and dam to any and all of their 'kiss'. None would ever understand the lengths she had gone to make sure she purged herself of it. She'd had worked herself up into Hel's good graces, to make the Queen confidant enough to release her of all safeguards, she'd killed her own vampiric sire to purge the taint of his cursed blood, and gathered the strength of all the other major bloodlines into her own blood so she could offer a single vampire, so she could offer Vytis, absolute freedom upon turning.

For her revolution to be a success she needed a wild card, one she could trust, he would be that wild card, if she could only get him to accept. Almedha kept her expression composed; she could see the indecision written clearly upon his face. Vytis' years in Asgard had been regrettably years of sorrow not bitterness, he did not hate the Gods, not like she did but she knew she had the only thing he ever cared for. At the time Almedha had spared Astridr's body from Hel's wrath out of the simple feeling of loyalty. She'd been young and had felt like she owed it to sweet Astridr's memory to guard her remains against Hel's fury, felt that she owed Vytis loyalty for the trust and love he'd given her during his life time.

Inevitably the years had passed and she gotten wiser, as the years went on she saw exactly what Astridr was. Astridr was leverage, there was nothing that Vytis would not do to possess her, to see her restored, Vytis would agree to anything she wanted if he got his one true love back. A part of her felt heartless, ruthless but the logic of her plan was sound and her motivations weren't entirely selfish, her aims were for the greater good. Long had the undead been pawns of the damned gods, the fodder sacrificed in their wars against the Aesir, and the Aesir were not much better. No, the undead were better left to their own devices, to winning freedom from Nifleheim while avoiding destruction. The redemption of the undead was at hand but they needed a strong and resolute leader to bring that future to them.

* * *

He didn't understand what she was waiting for; did she really think he'd refuse? Astridr…the thought of being so close once again, he really hoped this time he'd finally succeed, he wasn't sure if his heart could weather the heaviness of failure once more. From Almedha's silence he knew she was waiting for a verbal  _yes OR no._  The answer was undoubtedly YES, "Alright, I will give myself to you to repay the debt of the blood price you paid for myself and Astridr. Where do you want me? How is this to be done?"

The way he worded it didn't sound right but he didn't know the right way to accept, to offer himself, and he wanted it to be done, done and over with, "I want to see her."

Almedha softly smiled, "Astridr's body is not here, I told you that she is safe, safe from everything. I would not bring her body to the danger of a battlefield. You'll have to trust me that I mean no deceit."

Vytis gazed at her and despite notable changes he saw in her behavior and mannerisms, damn him, he did still trust her. He couldn't believe that she would ever betray him even though every fiber of his being told him not to stupid in bestowing blind trust, he hoped she didn't give him reason to regret in the near future, "I will trust you," if any deserved it Almedha did because she had earned it, "How will this be done?"

"A blood exchange with the transformation cemented by the consumption of blood at first feeding, the first blood you taste must be my own it will sustain you until the first feed. The first feeding must come from any source but the undead, you cannot feed upon the living by a proxy, to truly call yourself a vampire you must feed directly. It is the act – some would call it the sin, of consuming the vitality of others to survive which will truly complete your transition. Choose your first feeding carefully for you will always be drawn to them if you do not drain them. I must know you are of sound mind, once I have drained you there will be no going back."

"Do I look like I am getting cold feet?"

"No, you look resolute, resolved in mind, which is why I ask."

It didn't really make sense for Almedha to doubt when he was decided. A part of him wondered if she hadn't maneuvered him into this blood exchange, she had seemed only too eager to mention anything that would draw them to this decision yet at the last minute Almedha turned craven, almost as if she didn't want to corrupt him after all, to save his soul possibly?

"Let's get it done."

Almedha situated herself upon the ground, her skirts of dark emerald gown contrasting beautifully against her pale moonlit skin. For a moment it made her look like a sensual fey belonging in the forest landscape until her eyes glanced up, crimson, showing her for the being of darkness she was. A hand was extended to him, palm up, her wrist perfectly balanced, poised as a sensual lure. The movement was oddly spellbinding but he was utterly immune to her beauty. Almedha was beautiful, always had been, but he'd never love her any more than he ever had as a mortal. His heart belonged to Astridr, no matter how breathtaking eternity made Almedha; he knew that he grow no closer to her. There was a practical ruthlessness about her that told him that even though they would live an eternity together their relationship would never grow or progress to more. Almedha was like an adopted mother to him but she was objective where a mother should bestow emotion, love upon her children. Hel had changed Almedha, Almedha had exchanged feelings and emotions for survival, it wouldn't endear her to him any further. It made him HATE Hel for robbing him of the closest thing he knew to love besides Astridr.

Stiffly he took her extended hand and Almedha pulled him down with surprising strength gently down beside her, close enough to her side that he was just short of being in her lap. Her hands curled around either side of his neck, smooth and soothing as she guided his head to rest upon her lap. Her delicate hands removed themselves as she descended upon his neck, fangs sinking into skin and vein. The first pull on the vein hurt for he felt her fangs tearing, forcing the blood to come forth, yielding to the seeking suction of her lips. Crimson eyes, glowing bright with vitality, captured his own. Almedha caught his gaze effortlessly and he felt the pain glaze over into pleasure underneath the guidance of her mind.

* * *

The moment his warm blood hit her tongue she was instantly assailed by the memories stored in his blood. Blood always held memories but lust and love, those emotions left the strongest imprint, sometimes the touch of either would sing for centuries before fading or last for an eternity embedded in the crimson stream of life. It should not, did not surprise her to see Astridr's memories preserved so strongly in his blood. It almost made her want to flinch; he'd so desired contact with the mere memory of her that he had cast himself in the eternal agony – the never-ending dilemma of allowing himself to remember at the expense of never being able to touch or know or feel, it was no wonder he was willing to sell his soul for the mere 'chance' to be with her. For a moment his agony was so powerful, cut her so deeply, that it weighed down her own awareness so heavily that she was lost to what she was doing. It was only the tension of his muscles beneath her fangs that made her aware that she'd not made the bite, the feeding pleasurable for him thus far, it was something she instantly rectified as she saw the first in a series of memories:

_Vytis, young and handsome, gazing up at the pale petite form of Astridr, a girl several years his senior but his first real crush._

_His childish eagerness at the news of their betrothal and his naive determination to impress Astridr, both which made him declare his naïve sense of love for her._

_The empty years of the battlefield which saw him grow from boy to man and left him yearning for the bride he left behind, the woman he left waiting._

_The fury and indignation he felt for Astridr when she'd been passed over, their mutual futures decided leaving him with Ingrid and Astridr with the shame of decline and the loneliness of death's approach._

_The gentle tenderness in which he wooed her, instilling her with confidence while slowly lowering the walls around his own carefully guarded heart, ultimately surrendering it to her embrace slowly bit by bit, day by day._

_The sight of them coiled in each other's arms and wrapped in each other's warmth, basking the night hours away in each other's presence._

_The fear and worry her pregnancy impressed upon him, prompting him to lose himself in drink, in wine to escape the despair and agony of her decline._

The memories devoured her and she desperately pulled back to avoid being immersed in them. A part of her felt envious, JEALOUS, of Astridr, jealous of the dead! It disgusted her how petty that seemed but still she could not help but notice how her own empty marriage paled in sharp contrast to the warmth of their love match. She bitterly shut herself to the memories; she could feed without heeding them. In fact it would be better if she did, by now Vytis was so pale, so faint, not far from death, she thought as she gently stroked her index finger almost lovingly along his jaw line. She curled her arms around him, drawing him up in an embrace, to bring him close to her neck but she was shocked to meet resistance when she tried.

"No, not there," he didn't want to intimacy of the carotid, she realized, he didn't want to be fed from her neck; the contact drew him too close to another female. Almedha allowed him to sink back into place upon her lap, he was so far gone that he was practically dead weight as she drew her wrist up to her mouth. Fangs pierced the skin, exposing the radial artery, exposing her pulse, a red well of blood instantly rising to stain the surface of her skin before she brought it gently down to the fold of his lips,  _"Drink."_

* * *

The warm, metallic liquid was placed against his pale cold lips, coating them in crimson red. For a moment he had no energy to do nothing and he thought that Almedha had gone too far, draining him dry to where he didn't have strength to drink even if he wanted to. A mental impulse writhed through his mind urging him to lock his lips around the red ruin of her small wrist and drink. He tried but he couldn't seem to coordinate his muscles and teeth to contract over the wound, to suckle at the proffered victual. Almedha twisted her arm allowing the blood to flow softly through his parted lips.

For a moment he paused before he felt himself react, seeking out the source and latching onto it. He felt a dull throb in his gums as if something was pushing itself out, he didn't yet realize that they were in incisors – the fangs he'd gain to feed. His hand grabbed the wrist, pulling in hard and fast against his hungering mouth. It was so very easy to lose himself to the warm beat of the blood entering his body. He closed his eyes reveling in feeling of the blood pumping fast and fervent beneath his insistent mouth, rejuvenating his emptied veins. Then his awareness of the blood began to recede giving way to…something else. At first he thought he was asleep, dreaming but then he realized that the images assailing his consciousness were not his own, they were Almedha's.

_He saw her as a mere child promised at age nine to a male thirty years her senior all in an aim to further her family's social status at the sacrifice of her happiness. He saw how the unhappy young girl grew into an embittered wife, only acknowledged by her spouse when abused and ever shamed by his infamous capacity for extra-marital affairs with other women. He saw her bear his children, sparing every bit of love she could muster and give them only to have them grow distant and drift from her…_

Suddenly the images stopped, he blinked, he wasn't sure what was going on but he knew he had been seeing Almedha's memories. It was like it was there one moment and gone the next, was she blocking him out? He understood if she had, it was bad enough to live through that way once and likely even worse to have such personal pain shared, no broadcasted through a blood exchange. Was it any surprise that Almedha despised her lot in life enough to abandon it in favor of one of her own choosing, her own making? New images manifested as new memories came to the forefront, when he saw that the Almedha of these memories looked much as she had in his mortal lifetime he realized she was hiding some, screening some of her memories and only exposing those she wished.

 _Almedha stepped forward into the room, he recognized it at once, it was his own room. His body lay upon the bed bearing every sign of struggle possible._ Instant rage boiled in his veins at the memory of the Valkyrie's visit. Almedha had been right; she had raped him that night. At the very least his sins had made him deserving of Nifleheim but she'd chosen to make him suffer, magnifying his shame by forcing an unwilling and eternal service upon his enslaved soul. _Almedha shared his disgust, he saw her walk forward, taking one of the dark Valkyrie's dark plumes from his chest, her hand curled into a fist, her claws ground the black feather into nothingness. She clambered onto the bed, drawing his dead body into her embrace and feeding upon the long cold blood._

_That memory faded into another, showing her walk down a deserted hallway the one leading to where Astridr had been laid to rest. A single ball of bright flame held poised in midair above her clawed hands as she brought it out to suffuse the glow upon Astridr's unchanged face. A single clawed finger softly, with genuine care, moved Astridr's sun-kissed tresses out of her face. Almedha turned carefully and looked around, as though she was looking for someone tailing her, "Alright, let's move it." Almedha oversaw the removal of Astridr's body from her place of rest, it could only be supposed she took it to safety. Shortly after Almedha had killed those who aided her in cold blood, to truly protect the secret of Astridr's whereabouts._

He knew why she showed him that memory, to bring him to peace that Astridr's body was safe. It was the closest he'd get to reassurance that Almedha would fulfill her side of the bargain until she brought him to Astridr's body. It bothered him more than not to know that now he had no clue where his beloved lay in rest. Even though he knew Almedha would not wrong him a paranoid fear crept into his mind about how he'd have to turn Midgard upside down and scour for Astridr if Almedha didn't live up her promise. It was a stupid fear but like all stupid fears it crept into his mind so he engrained every bit of that memory especially the surrounding landscape and its changes while they had moved Astridr, to gain clues if he ever truly needed them. The next memory crept upon him as he was trying to recall and assimilate the nuances of the last, it snuck upon his awareness so easily, so simply because this memory started submerged in darkness.

_A female was chained, her naked body bared to agony and torture so thick, so through it took him a moment to recognize Almedha beneath the dark red ruin of her skin. The once pale and flawless skin was marred with merciless cuts and mottled with sickening bruises. Almedha was left broken, starving, too weak to even stir to feed upon cold blood surrounding her, bathing her as she bled out. The ravenous hunger within was just another torture. Her throat contracted, barely healed enough for speech but enough for her to rasp coherent words, every syllable was agony but her words were allowed to be spoken, her words catching the rapt attention of her sadistic audience, her Queen. Speech was always allowed, all the better to hear her screams and hear her beg for mercy, "Please…please allow me to return to Midgard, to the children…"_

" _Why would I do that? Why would I want to do that?"_

" _I will do anything; suffer any number of years…please."_

 _Hel's eyes flashed at the promise, the idea of her suffering at her hands in the future._ Sick with shock, Vytis realized she got off on the promise of future opportunities to ruin the broken remnants of the woman before her. _The goddess stepped forward her claws caressing Almedha almost loving before bringing her lips against Almedha's crackled lips, seemingly unbothered by the rough texture of the bleeding mess of them, "Yes, Almedha, you may go but your sentence will double, you'll pay twice as much for the delay you have imposed this day…remember that."_

His mouth and fangs contracted around her wrist, the blood threatening to choke him as he retched realizing what Almedha had done, what she had chosen to do. How could she be given or endure worse then what he saw here? She had done it for him and for his children, he'd never taken or though Almedha had such an emotional stake for either of them. The thought of her sacrifice it made him feel suddenly unclean, unworthy to judge her. He had no right to judge her at all not when suffering to this degree, to this magnitude shaped her thusly. Almedha's love and compassion had been so heavily veiled that it shocked him almost as deeply as the gods cruelty. Hel might be the worse of them, the furthest extreme when it came to cruelty but they all had the capacity for it. Even the Aesir practiced it through object negligence if not outright spite…Almedha was trying to teach him something from these memories, he was sure of it.

_A bright yet overcast sky was hanging over four figures of differing statures: one tall and three shorter, there was not any sharp contrast of height between the three children. Almedha was one and his throat caught as he looked upon his children – his and Astridr's. They grown since he left them, growth out of their cradle but not yet fully grown into maturity. They all could not be older than ten or eleven. Ismene and Eldrene carried the genes of his own dark appearance but Vergil was bright, golden, like his mother. In behavior Ismene was silent and dutiful, Eldrene was solemn and affected, and Vergil was detached, almost sullen with apathy. Almedha looked over her shoulder before turning her gaze upon Vergil, the straggler, who was trailing further and further behind, "Vergil, what is wrong?"_

" _Nothing, do we have to do this?"_

" _Do you not wish to pay your respects to your dearly departed parents?"_

" _No, I hate them."_

Vytis froze, true agony peeling through him, he never wanted to hear that from his own child, let alone from the Astridr's own lips, their son's own lips

_Almedha suddenly froze, her eyes glacial in the gaze she dispensed upon his wayward son, "Do not say such things. The memories of your parents do not deserve your enmity. Your mother was beautiful, graceful, and loving, when she bore you three she knew that deep down it would shorten her life expectancy and maybe even contribute to her death. The fact she knew and made the sacrifice regardless shows how much she loved you. Your father, he did not want to leave you, he was taken – stolen by Odin's Valkyrie. It disgraces your father's memory, your mother's sacrifice, and the very love they shared to conceive you three to make them the target of your hatred," Almedha knelt beside him, her eyes and tone softening from its harsh volume, "It is not wrong to be angry about what has been taken from you but that wrong was committed by the Gods, the fault lies with them."_

" _But the Gods are never wrong."_

" _They are, the Gods can be and are wrong. They wronged you! They wronged your Father and your Mother! Never let the innocent pay the price for your anger towards others…"_

_Vergil looked almost driven to tears, "I'm sorry, Almedha, I'm really sorry."_

_Almedha stood, her eyes surveying the boy before her, "I know…I know, Vergil, come!" She extended her hand out to the boy and he took it, eager to make amends, joining the procession with his two sisters. Privately Almedha wished the weight of her hypocrisy didn't cut her so deeply. Usually the innocent always paid the price; it would be no different in regards to her own vendetta against the divine._

Following that memory he saw flashes in which Almedha established and stabilized Vergil's rule. His mother, Lady Adalinde upon his own death had worked her way up, assuming the throne as Regent in Vergil's stead until he came of age. His lady mother later had decided she liked the power she acquired and was willing to displace Vergil of his birth rite to do it. Almedha removed Lady Adalinde discreetly by her own hand and all the while plied and arranged the foreign alliances that saw Vergil assume the throne at the young age of 14. Vytis was more grateful than he thought he would be to be able to have seen them. Centuries later he knew he'd NEVER know them personally but it alleviated some of his pain to know that the misfortune he and Astridr had shared ended with their deaths, that their children thrived and lived happily despite their absence.

No matter what he couldn't hide the fact he HATED the Valkyrie for stealing him from his own children, from taking away that opportunity, the choice to be involved in their lives through killing him, taking him. All in order for him to be just one more soldier in Odin's never ending forces. A part of him woke up, it was as if under Eir's guidance in Asgard he'd sleeping in strains of apathy but now he was awake once more: furious, enraged, and suddenly aware of everything that had been stolen from him and everything he'd missed. He'd NEVER forgive them for it.

He reveled in watching Almedha dispense her vengeance upon the Gods, he learned from the memories of her blood, learned of strategies and tactics used by the undead to draw upon their strengths while capitalizing upon the weaknesses of the Gods and their mortal Einherjar. The years seem to fill his awareness as he learned the history of several centuries through her eyes. Almedha never seemed to miss a single detail and amongst the undead she was truly a force unmatched, a force to be reckoned with.

_Lithe in stature and imposing with her inhumane strength Almedha danced, her claws rending down enemies. Finally she paused, her scrutiny focusing upon a distant figure. Her lips peeled back in pure malice as she beheld the individual, her fangs shining in the moonlight as she charged. The female warrior turned putting down one vampire and turning to deal with Almedha next. Indigo armor shone to a pure shade of lavender in the moonlight overhead, sapphire eyes fixated on the approaching threat of Almedha, her straight silken blond hair billowing around her…_

Vytis ' mouth contracted, the sight of that female delivering an immediate sucker punch that drove him back into awareness, into reality. In his shock he choked on the blood, red rivulets of the life-giving elixir dripping from his bloodied mouth. Instantly he felt Almedha pull him away and hold him down, her voice soft as she attempted to be soothing, "That's enough, Vytis, that's enough…"

Almedha had pulled him easily off her vein even though every part of him wanted to vault against her body and drive his fangs into her vein once more. The woman…the female in armor…he seemed to see Astridr so easily in the images of like individuals but unlike Sid'ren the memory of the armored Battle Maiden was like a direct match, "Who is she? Who is that, Almedha?"

Almedha was silent for a moment, she did not look down at him, her hands cradled him in her lap, "The Lady Valkyrie, Odin's Battle Maiden…"


	15. Silmeria Valkyrie

Sleeping, Vytis was sleeping; she'd coaxed him underneath a veil of sleep shortly after she'd answered his query. Almedha was troubled that he'd seen that far into her memories, troubled that he'd seen the blond Valkyrie before she had time to prepare him to face her. She'd needed time to think on what to do and what to tell him, to buy herself time and give him a temporary sense of peace she'd compelled him into a dreamless sleep. Almedha wasn't sure he'd thank her for it or not but for now the Valkyrie was her dilemma to consider. The trouble was how to explain to Vytis what she did not know herself, she didn't have answers for all the questions that had sprung into his mind the instant he'd seen the Valkyrie.

What was the Valkyrie's name? Well she had hardly crossed centuries of battlefields and exchanged introductions with the Battle Maiden. That was too close to suicide for her comfort; truthfully no matter how powerful she was she wasn't unlike any other vampire she didn't want to draw too close to the Valkyrie. That was the other part that puzzled her as much as it puzzled Vytis. Both of them had crossed paths, crossed blades with the Lady Valkyrie but neither of their recollections were the same. The Valkyrie that Vytis remembered taking him was NOT the blond she'd seen and fought these long years. Was there more than one? She couldn't even answer that.

Her first reaction was to shrug off Vytis recollection as faulty, after all he was a mortal or had been and they weren't the best when it came to observations that transcended beyond the physical world. Her mind couldn't accept that though, Vytis had always had an extraordinary mind as a mortal and she couldn't see him making a muddle of remembering the Valkyrie's appearance to such a degree. That indicated that there was likely more than one Valkyrie, not that she'd ever heard of more than one upon Midgard. She hoped that was the case, dealing with one Valkyrie was hard enough. The fact that Hel's assault on Midgard had been so successful was from the fact that the lone Valkyrie was stretched thin, very thin, her time and skills were on high demand and they were keeping her VERY busy.

So how a Valkyrie had come to possess a likeness or wear a guise similar to Vytis' beloved was beyond her. She bitterly wished she had an answer because she had no clue how to turn what she told him to her benefit. Every action she had done, every memory she had chosen to show had been done with strategic intent. She didn't want to change that game plan now. Behind her she heard the approach of Sid'ren, she knew it was the female warrior's approach from the mere pressure of her feet when she moved; it was too light to be any male and too swift to be a majority of the young accompanying her. Almedha turned her head slightly, looking over her shoulder in the direction of Sid'ren's approach, "What is it?"

"Lady Hel demands to know why we haven't opened the gateway yet. She was most insistent that we not tarry or delay any further."

Almedha sighed though the news Sid'ren brought was promising in its own strange way. The fact that Hel had not known what she was doing, that Hel did not know she'd made a convert by blood meant that truly she'd sired Vytis free of 'blood oath', Hel did not know of him but she was not in the clear yet and for now she had to remain there, "What did you tell her?"

"That you were weary, in need of repast and rest," of course, Sid'ren would never betray her willingly and she knew it. Sid'ren loathed Hel with such fervor that it was almost unnatural until Almedha remembered the source. What Sid'ren had lost to the goddess was of such value that she had nothing to lose and everything to gain from success; it made the young vampiress a most dangerous enemy for Hel and a priceless ally for Almedha.

Almedha softly laid Vytis upon the ground, removing his weight from her lap with the gentle tenderness of a parent laying their child to rest while hoping to refrain from waking the child, "Watch over him, Sid'ren, see that no harm comes to him while I prepare for the ritual."

"What do you see in him?"

"I see in him our freedom from Hel," she said levelly with a sidelong look at Sid'ren.

There was a pause, if she wasn't mistaken she'd shocked her second-in-command, "He is your chosen one?" Sid'ren obviously seemed to expect that she'd choose someone experienced or strong, there was shock where Sid'ren rarely even allowed herself the novelty of expression of any kind. Almedha couldn't blame her with the mistress they shared; Queen Hel was enough of a threat without aid.

"Yes. For the greater good, for the freedom of us all, I will step down from my place of leadership and he, he shall take my place but he must be prepared to step into the shoes we place before him, to walk the path we expect of him. He is our future but he must be protected while he grows to that point in time. His name is Brahms, know him well, he will be King of Vampires, Lord of All Undead," yes, she liked the name she'd bestowed; it fit him much better than Vytis. Vytis…the name was too soft, too delicate. He had to be perceived as strong, he had to BE strong in truth. In the end he was no longer that mortal man.

Almedha turned to behold Sid'ren's expression firsthand; it would pain her to lose such a useful and powerful ally. If Sid'ren did not display the same loyalty to Brahms as she did to herself then Sid'ren could not be trusted, if she could not be trusted she was worthless. Sid'ren was nearly inscrutable in her silence, it was so hard to read anything from her but there was a quality of enduring conviction that put Almedha's fears to rest, "It will be done. I will protect him."

Almedha nodded, "See that you do, when he wakes bring him to the summit."

Sid'ren inclined her head in silence, blind in her absolute loyalty to Almedha, it was loyalty she deserved since she'd done everything to cultivate it. Hel had done the opposite and she'd pay the price ultimately. Sid'ren was young but she was one of the few vampires that would blossom into her powers young and shine like a beacon compared to most others for the rest of her unnatural life.

With regret she abandoned him although she knew Sid'ren could be trusted to protect him without the impulse to slip a blade in Brahms back. Almedha still felt the inexplicable impulse to see to his safety on her own, by pledging her own personal protection to him in the most vulnerable state of sleep. Duty called however and for now she had to play along, until the time was ripe for their rebellion. Success meant Hel would have a two-fronted war staged against Nifleheim, against her but failure meant death for them all.

* * *

_Silmeria stepped onto the desolate battlefield, after several days of overcast skies falling into night the battle had finally 'ended' or at least both sides had paused in the conflict. The losses were heavy upon both sides, she thought grimly, as she looked at the dead bodies of undead and Einherjar alike. The Undead had been collected and burnt, by now the Einherjar knew the perils of leaving the Undead untouched. In the distance she heard an occasional shriek as an occasionally unconscious undead would find themselves waking to being burnt alive. The only way to be positive that the Undead were dead and not unconscious was to defile and destroy their tainted husks. Her sapphire eyes turned to scrutinize the dead of Asgard's armies; they were not so easily disposed of OR replaced. It was causing her no end of constant work to see that Einherjar were recruited and trained enough to be sent to Asgard._

_To their deaths more like…, she thought bitterly as she beheld a few familiar faces upon the dead scattered around the field._

_Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, her lips a grim line. There was an overwhelming impulse in her to DO something about it, about all of this! Where was the jaded bitch meant to unleash the next wave of tragedy? No one could tell Silmeria so she sent out her own Einherjar to scout the terrain. She continued her steady scrutiny of the battlefield, looking for survivors if there were any to be had. Her eyes raked over a pile of blades heaped together, a well-kept albeit abandoned blade caught her attention as an oddity amongst the pile of broken and rusty arms at her feet._

_Without considering her inherent gift of psychometric touch she placed her hand around the blade, drawing it out of the pile. Instantly she froze as images impressed themselves, unleashed themselves on her mind in an almost staggering torrent. She saw the owner clearly, so clearly, the veteran who'd wielded this blade had been in service to Asgard a long time. However there was an unmistakable residue of bitterness and even sorrow. She could not fathom why someone would loathe the paradise of Asgard, would loathe the honor of being chosen. Her fingertips brushed further along the blade and it told her more. She felt a stab of pain as she realized that this particular Einherjar had been one of the few Eir favored or trusted to protect her. Odin and Freya had even robbed gentle Eir of her protectors. The war was getting that bad?_

_Her hand tightened around the blade, she didn't put it back. No, the goddess deserved to know her protector wasn't coming back. She looked around for the blade's sheath but it was nowhere to be found, she adapted by wrapping the blade in clean cloth and binding that cloth around its edges before securing the blade beside her own. It was a blessing when the images stopped, it gave her clarity to ponder what she learnt; unfortunately her touch could not tell her all. She was left with bits and pieces, bits and pieces she had to make sense of. In this case there was no answer, likely never would be. It was likely the blade had been abandoned because its owner was dead. This war had to be ended soon; it was consuming the best and brightest of Asgard's armies. She did not look forward to presenting Eir with the blade of her guardian, the blade of course wouldn't mean anything to the Goddess of Healing but it was a formality that would give closure. There had definitely been a bond conveyed through the blade's steel, a bond between goddess and Einherjar._

_The approach of leather soles upon the wet bloodstained ground drew her attention away from her silent thoughts. She already knew who it was, "Atrasia, what did you find?"_

_The female archer had a quiver along her backside, in her hands an arrow was nocked in her bow, "The undead are collecting around the foundation of the mountain. I managed to sneak through, far enough in to get wind that the ritual is taking place at the mountain summit. They are preparing right now."_

_Silmeria knew she couldn't waste any more time here, her skills were needed elsewhere, it would be inexcusable to allow them to open another gate. It was time to cut down these dark ages, to cut Hel down to size. She went too far in her actions. Hel was placing pressure upon Asgard but it was the mortals who suffered the worse. When she squeezed Asgard, it was Midgard who felt the pinch. Unacceptable…, "Let's go."_

* * *

He stirred, instantly the first thing he felt was a gnawing hunger clawing through him. That was strange to him; Einherjar rarely felt the intense need to eat so sharply. In fact they rarely needed to give way to sustenance so urgently or frequently. His tongue moved to wet his lips as he moved to push himself up, a sharp pain nicked his tongue giving him the pleasing scent and taste of crimson. He almost lazily closed his eyes as he savored the taste with evident appreciation. The approach of feet made his eyes snap open to attention upon an approaching figure, "Brahms," he blinked at the unfamiliar name by which the familiar vampiress called him.

"Vytis," he croaked out of his dry throat, correcting her.

She dispensed a thin, veiled smile indulgently upon him, "Not according to your dam," when he blinked again she frowned, "What kind of sleep did she put you under? Do you even remember who I am?"

"Sid'ren," he was pleased with the way it came freely with ease upon his lips.

"Yes, it is traditional for a sire or dam to dispense or give a name to an individual who accepts their 'kiss' or joins their bloodline," she explained, "Brahms."

At the mention of sire or dam he took a moment to recollect his thoughts and remembered, he'd allowed Almedha to turn him. The very idea of getting a new identity just because he decided to dispense of his humanity and all its earthly and unearthly bonds seemed just strange, almost silly but at the serious scrutiny he received from Sid'ren he didn't contest her on this point. He'd talk to Almedha about it later.

Sid'ren seemed to recover almost at once, "Come, I'm supposed to take you to Almedha upon waking."

"Where is she?"

"At the summit of the mountain preparing to open the gate, our presence is required."

"She is still going to go through with it?"

Sid'ren blinked in confusion at his query before extending one of her own, "Why would she not? The fate and affairs of mortals and Gods mean nothing to us. Her Highness, Queen Hel would be most displeased if Lady Almedha didn't open the gateway, neither of us want to court the Queen's enmity over failure. Strange that you care considering how the Gods screwed you almost as badly as they did me. I suppose I've had the fortune of only dealing with Hel though."

His heart sank almost completely, instantly poisoned at the reminder in Sid'ren's words. Truthfully he didn't agree with Sid'ren about her lack of care or sympathy for mortals but he shared her distaste and hatred of the Gods. In the end it was the threat of Hel's displeasure that made him drop the topic, wrong as it might be after what he saw of Almedha's memories he didn't want to expose her or find himself exposed to Hel's perverse idea of pleasure. Opening the gate seemed to be the lesser of two evils when it came to seeking the safety of self-preservation. He nodded, "Lead the way then, why does she need us?"

"For protection, when Almedha is opening the gate she is incapable of breaking the spell to use magic for protection purposes, nor is she able to cast wards for they disturb the foundation of the gateway," Sid'ren continued walking but she spared a glance back at him, "Einherjar have often tried to take advantage of this crucial weakness. It's my job as Almedha's  _ghaida_ , her guardian; to see she is not killed on my watch likewise I've been charged with protecting you while you are so new and fresh so you're coming with me."

"The  _ghaida_ …they protect."

"The  _ghaid'en_  are a warrior class amongst the vampires, they pledge themselves by sacred oath of blood to a single master or mistress whom they protect to the death if necessary. To the masters of our race their blood is most precious; it is a grave insult or failure of the highest regard for a master to be harmed under the watch of a  _ghaida_ , failure is an instant dismissal. The bond breaks if or when the  _ghaida_  fails his/her master or mistress."

"Your mistress is…..Almedha?"

"Yes, the master vampire chooses their  _ghaida_. I am fortunate to have been chosen by one such as Almedha."

"Why is the ritual being done here?"

"Queen Hel chose the location because of its strategic placement upon Midgard. It allows her armies to move on Dipan and Crell Monferaigne, the most powerful mortal kingdoms. If you speak about the choice of placement for the gate itself, I chose this place for the ritual, in the best interests of protecting her from the armies of Asgard. The mountain is steep all around which makes it difficult for armies to traverse up while fighting our armies upon the slopes. Likewise it allows us to take advantage of the high ground for ambushes. Nevertheless, I don't hold blind faith that Einherjar are the only enemy we shall encounter. The Gods, the Aesir are getting desperate, I imagine we may yet see the Valkyrie descend upon us."

"The Valkyrie," instantly his mind recalled Hrist, his hatred solidifying, "I will help you protect her…protect Almedha."

"You won't, just stay out of my way and don't get yourself killed. I know you have a personal stake where the Valkyrie is concerned but don't waste Almedha's blood, don't waste the trouble she went to turning you only to get yourself killed, fledgling."

He'd been about to voice outrage at her dismissal of his aid when he felt something, an instant wave of nausea coursed through his body almost doubling him. Sid'ren snarled at his side and pulled him up, "Come on," Sid'ren was no longer talking, she was no longer doing anything but running, half of the time she'd push on ahead beyond his ability to keep up with her, prompting her to lead him on in her haste, a haste he did not understand, "What is wrong?"

"Divine magic," she snarled, it was the first word he'd gotten out of her in minutes, she practically spat as if choking on the presence of it, "She here! She comes!" it almost sounded like ranting, "The Valkyrie, she materialized her warriors behind our lines and I've no doubt where she is going. MOVE!"

In the distance he heard the tense vibration of a bow mere moments before Sid'ren plucked the arrow out of the air before it hit him. Sid'ren twisted giving herself momentum to plunge the arrow into an approaching warrior to her right. Another was rising from her left, she leapt back before urging him on, "GO! I'll take care of things here. Don't stop until you reach the top."

"You…"

"I'll be alright, stop wasting my time! Go!" She pushed him, his delay in fleeing cost her, it had given the archer and two warriors time to take advantage of better positions, in hopes of subduing her. He spared one look back and no more, climbing up swiftly and hoping that when he reached the top he'd find Almedha alive and well. As he neared the top he no longer heard the presence of battle or arms. He took that to mean a good thing, it meant Sid'ren was alive. Surely he would have encountered Einherjar at his back if she'd be downed in battle. Even though the Einherjar were strong he knew it would take an extraordinary and persistent line of events to fell Sid'ren. Relief colored his features as he pulled himself level upon the top of the mountain. Almedha was there, situated and seated in a circle of power, her eyes closed as if in meditation. He was relieved, no battle had extended this far. Almedha opened her crimson eyes, tilting her head upward towards the skies, scrutinizing her surroundings as if feeling danger's approach even if she couldn't see it clearly.

The danger became readily apparent to him within seconds of its appearance, a cascade of lavender light charged down at Almedha as if delivering the judgment of the heavens. It wasn't far from the truth, there was no time to think and thankfully he acted upon his impulse with surprising speed. Using his newfound physical attributes he crossed the distance between himself and Almedha, interjecting himself in front of her, his bare hands reaching out as if to block the impact. A blade collided with his outstretched hands, slashing open the skin of his palms. Instantly he fell back into the rhythm of using his body as a weapon, his hands curled around the blade drawing his enemy in the close quarters of physical combat. It was only then that he looked and realized what he was facing; the Battle Maiden of Almedha's memory.

He tried to steel his mind and harden his heart, to tell himself that he was holding a Valkyrie within his arms, captive within his firm, relentless grasp but he could not. Though every rational thought told him this Valkyrie was his worst enemy, a pale imitation of his beloved she looked and felt every bit like Astridr. He took a moment to look down at her, her face held visible traces of shock, "You…," his heart was elated by the word, by the recognition; she knew him and remembered him. She was too real to ignore, although she tensed and struggled in his arms he tried to draw upon all his strength to keep her there, to hold her there. The effort made his mind heavy and hazy from the effort only to feel an iron hard will solidify his mind, infusing him with temporary strength – that strength didn't come without a price, it came with a command whispering through his mind, _"Throw her down upon the circle – the cycle of power, the one at your feet."_

The urge to obey was almost instantaneous though he resisted, not wanting to surrender the woman in his arms but the pressure grew twofold – mental and physical. The mental command grew stronger, unyielding, demanding his obedience while his strength was failing him, the Valkyrie wearing down his strength through her struggles with ease. Her struggles enflamed his hunger, he felt and heard her blood rushing through her veins, his eyes narrowing to slits as he looked down upon her. The urge to take her vein was an impulse that grew the longer they were clashed together, the longer she was mired in his limbs. The mental command broke through him before the Valkyrie could break free of him. He released his grip upon her wrists, the pressure he'd held upon them had long since slackened the grip she had on her blade leaving it at his feet while he used the momentum of their weight to turn while throwing her down upon the fabric of the circle where Almedha had been. Almedha, however, was no longer there causing his eyes to scour the surroundings searching for her. Standing at his back Almedha's eyes was drinking in the sight of them, taking in every detail of the Valkyrie's struggle, his blood lust, and the palpable physical tension between them.

The moment the Valkyrie fell upon the magic, even dead as he was to mage craft he felt the spell flare to life at his feet, felt it cross his awareness. The Valkyrie seemed to feel it the instant it came alive at her touch, her feet light and airy, leaping airborne in an attempt to evade the coils that she knew were coming, nipping at her heels like hounds. The trap seemed made for her, knowing its prey and reading her actions. Light snaked out from the intricate script of the runes, rising swiftly curling around her, closing off any escape. Bright and blinding ropes seemed to coil around any part of her body they touched, essentially everywhere: her legs, her knees, her ankles, her arms and wrists, her neck, pulling her back down against the ground where it held her fast before Almedha's smirking scrutiny. Almedha gazed at her prisoner with delight, watching as she struggled and writhed against the snare of her trap, the vampiress mocked her prisoner by giving a small incline of the head, "Lady Valkyrie…I'm honored."

* * *

_The Huntress had become The Hunted…_

That fact amused Almedha to no end, the Valkyrie had come here to kill her and now the reverse would be true, Almedha would kill her as much as you could kill a goddess. It was regrettable that she'd not yet found the way to extinguish immortal life. The only question now was what to do with her prisoner; she couldn't be kept around Brahms, not after what she'd just seen between them. No, while she wore the guise of his departed mortal love she could not afford allowing the Valkyrie to live. The thought of draining her power-rich blood crossed her mind…and then her eyes fell upon Brahms. Her eyes wandered down to his hands noticing that the marks left in his palm by the Valkyrie's blade had not yet naturally healed, he needed blood but would he do it if given the opportunity?

How fitting it would be for the Valkyrie who had forced him into his unwilling service to be the one to free him of it. As a fledgling it would probably be too much power for him to swallow down alone but perhaps after providing his needs she could see to her own, practically salivating at the thought of the Valkyrie's warm life caressing along her soft tongue while it faded from the goddess' physical body. Her eyes fell upon the circle of power, Hel would not be happy that she'd used the power – her power to trap the Valkyrie instead of opening the gate. Well not unless she got to keep what Almedha killed, the likeliness that Hel would be able to take and keep one of Odin's Valkyries for her own it just wasn't likely to happen. The more she looked at the captive at her feet the more ideas she had but truthfully a startling realization hit her. She could use the Valkyrie's lifeforce, and that of her Einherjar, AND recycle Hel's power to open the gateway. To get the army that they would unleash upon Midgard, the one they'd use against Nifleheim's Queen.

" _You desire her and you need to feed…,"_ she whispered in Brahms mind, in this mindset as a fledgling he'd need little encouragement to use the Valkyrie,  _"why not slack both needs, both thirsts at once?"_

Her eyes watched him, carefully measuring the effect her offering had upon him. It took hold with ease, an ease that was as disturbing as it was promising. Disturbing because he lusted so strongly upon the Valkyrie, promising because she had to expend so little to bend him to her will. She tried to take comfort in the fact that it was just because of Astridr, every fixation and every action of his tracing back to his deceased wife. It was distasteful to force the feeding, to make him swallow her compulsion after she planted the suggestion so she stayed her hand, allowing him to make the choice.

* * *

Almedha's suggestion weighed ever-heavily upon his mind as he eyed the Valkyrie. Even bound and trussed up in the magical mire she was divine, perfect, and defiant. Defiance was something Astridr hadn't shown much of but if she ever had he was sure it would look like the Valkyrie's. The sight of her defiance somehow fit her entirely; it became her from her rigid stature to the disgusted curl of her lips. The sight of hers made him discreetly lick his own, pressing them together until they were pale with indecision. He could have, would have likely stayed their all night gazing at her with admiration if it wasn't for the fact he grew careless with his newfound fangs. While he pondered in his indecision he'd been nervously albeit carefully running his tongue against his sharp incisors. One careless sweep of his tongue against the sharp diminutive fangs split his tongue open, the taste of crimson spilling over his taste buds as he lapped and swallowed the small stream. His eyes narrowed into crimson slits on the Valkyrie in an almost predatory gaze as he made up his mind; he needed to feed and no blood host would compare to the Valkyrie, it was the closest illusion of Astridr he had since her death so long ago.

The Valkyrie's sapphire eyes followed his moves with calculation, doing nothing until he placed his mouth against the cradle of flesh between her neck and shoulder. Then she charged into his mouth, shoulder slamming into his jaw with enough force that it momentarily stunned him. Once he regained his vision a few short seconds later the Valkyrie's once lax restraints had tightened, dragging her down roughly, practically imprisoning her against the ground. Almedha's eyes were a flinty color, scarlet with rage and for the first time he realized that the magic was indeed conscious in its own right, guided by Almedha's own awareness. The restraints now left very little movement to the Valkyrie but his eyes did narrow in appreciation, fixated upon the delicate arc of light perfect flesh where neck met shoulder from behind.

The lesson had been learnt the first time, he was cautious when he approached her the second time. He realized how little she thought of providing his blood needs but he still intended to follow through with his original intent – to indulge in Astridr's memory even if it was false, even if she was just an illusion. Ardent anger hardened in him, it was no more than the Valkyrie deserved for using Astridr's image as her own. There was no teasing preamble, he hungered and heeded that hunger, sinking his fangs into her as he fed at her neck from behind. In the instant before her blood hit his awareness he instantly was hit by an overwhelming memory which belonged to a life he lived so long ago he'd almost forgotten it:  _his arms wrapping around Astridr's waist, drawing her into his embrace while his mouth dipped low, kissing along her smooth and delicate neckline, a delectable laugh of pure delight peeling from the hollow core of her throat._

The memory aroused him to such a degree that his fangs lengthened, biting down hard enough to draw a gasp from the Valkyrie, from  _Silmeria?_  The revelation almost made him recoil, truthfully deep down he never had thought of the Valkyrie as being an individual in her own right but rather an extension of Hrist, the only one he'd known and the one he'd spent years loathing. Somehow that revelation affected everything, he felt bad suddenly but not enough to stop. The revelation simply made him take care, holding her as if she was precious. It didn't lessen the offense of what he did to her but that small kindness DID make her relax slightly in his arms giving him the illusion of Astridr's pliant willingness when he needed it most of all.

Feeding from Silmeria paled in sharp contrast to his feeding from Almedha, where he'd seen so much from Almedha's blood he could not see anything and read very little off of the Valkyrie's blood. A part of him wondered if that was the Valkyrie's last laugh, in keeping herself cloistered from him, in depriving him of anything and everything short of sustenance. Truthfully though he felt something on the blood, some manner of protection was entwined around it, blocking him from the memories. The lack of memory, of connection with the Valkyrie, made the affair of his feeding oddly cool and dispassionate. It made him so badly long for more, for consent at the very least; he wished that she wasn't imprisoned beneath him – an unwilling sacrifice.

His mind tried not to recall that fact because of the uncomfortable way it accentuated and rankled his minute sense of remaining honor, that alone was almost enough to upset his stomach as much as the fact he was feeding on blood now, on her blood. In fact his discomfort was so deep seated that he almost missed the first memories slipping through the crude cage of Silmeria's resolve. Most of the memories were inconsequential, containing figures and events of no significance to him. Nevertheless he couldn't help but marvel her inherent and compassionate kindness and her infallible strength of will, both of which were made evident in her existence, her task as Valkyrie. Silmeria, she was nothing like Hrist, by certain irony if it had been Silmeria who recruited him he might have been willing to go with her but instead fate had led him down this path, made them enemies in the bitterest and most ancient feud between the divine and the damned.

The memories came in rare instances and faded easily away as if coming and going upon a swift wind or a powerful current. They always seemed to catch his wandering mind off guard but not nearly as much when a memory crept into his awareness, a memory his mind read off the Valkyrie's blood.

_A haunted figure bending over the dead weight of a feminine figure interposed in his arms and lap. The figure was seated, the face of his dead beloved lying softly against his chest, fingers trailing reverently through blond hair that cascaded down her slender back and spread across the floor. The man's arm was situated beneath her knees, pulling her against him with an agonized desperation, cradling and holding her as if he could keep her fast against him, with him even though death had already claimed the priceless beauty. Those eyes, that person was known to him long before he saw the shadows beneath the weary gaze._

The memory hit him, surprised him to such a degree that he almost withdrew his steady pressure upon her neck, upon her pulse as if scalded. It took him a moment to identify himself, the shadow he'd become in the moment of her death, yet easily he known the woman in that memory, recognizing the woman folded in that man's arms, HIS arms – Astridr, his lady and his love. Ravenously he latched his consciousness, his awareness on the tendril of that memory, peeling at it as if trying to strip her blood bare of any safeguards that would conceal such memories from his awareness. He didn't yet ask WHY she possessed such memories, memories that didn't belong to her but to him and Astridr, he just wanted more and he got it. Her blood yielding another memory to him as his mind clawed at the slippery and elusive barrier cast around her memory.

_A slender, delicate blond (and all too familiar) female cradled a dark and small body in the folds of her arms – protective and persistent in her efforts to spare her ailing child. A name came to the bundle in her arms; it was their daughter – Eldrene. Astridr's soft calm and soothing voice singing a soft lullaby to the two eldest children, singing them to sleep while she exerted effort to try to save the life of their last child. Eldrene, born last of the three, had been robbed of vitality by her siblings in the womb and lacked strength from day one. Astridr's body had been hard pressed to provide for four – herself and three children. Nevertheless she wore herself to the bone, determined to see Eldrene live. Astridr's bare foot rest upon the cradle's arc, rocking it with the steady rise and fall of her exposed ankle and bare foot. Motherhood became Astridr and it was never more evident than it was in that moment._

That memory faded slowly from his awareness as he continued to sift through her memories, trying to ravage a path through her mind as he unraveled her defenses. The blood was unimportant to him now, he was scarcely paying attention to the feeding at all, it was unimportant next to the urge, the desire to find and ferret out the dormant memories. If there had been any part of him that had reason to doubt what extremes he had gone to pursue Astridr beyond the boundaries of death these memories reaffirmed his devotion to the task whatever the cost to himself. Panting he pulled, peeling himself from her vein as the last remnants of her memories brushed over his mind's eye. His claws where curled around the Valkyrie's body, having pulled her against him while he fed with her beneath his weight. His grip was so tight on her lax, heavy limbs that her armor had been the only thing that protected her from his claws, digging into her and rending pale, delicate flesh. It was the fact she was so heavy in his arms, no longer tense and so, so pale that made him look upon her with a critical eye, realizing at once that something was very wrong.

Something was dying in her between the magic and his feeding it had robbed her of some manner of vitality. The sight of her like this made his chest tighten; she looked so much like his departed love - it was too close to the now fresh memory of Astridr's own final hours, her own suffering. His eyes turned to Almedha for answers truthfully he had expected the endurance of a goddess to go much further than his own feeding. As quickly as he turned to Almedha, imploring her for answers, he had wished he hadn't. His dam's eyes danced with the light of malicious intent and cold cruelty, it seemed so foreign, so strange, and it was damn unnerving to see that in her. Her gaze in that moment had made Lady Adalinde, his once impassive and detached mortal mother, look warm in comparison. The gaze made a heavy weight of dread build heavily in his throat. Almedha was no longer exhausted; in fact she seemed invigorated, like she'd never been better than she was now. Deep down realization seated itself, rooted itself deep in his understanding, opening his eyes to a cold fact: Almedha had been feeding on her as well, from a distance and in some way that couldn't be seen by the naked eye. She meant the Valkyrie more than harm, she meant to ruin her – ruin her slowly and through abject suffering and humiliation.

He didn't understand the connection between her and Astridr and until he did whether the Valkyrie wanted his protection or not – she had it. Almedha's bloodthirsty intentions gave him no choice, she forced his hand – he had to let the Valkyrie go or he'd lose her altogether here and now. He hoped fate would favor him by bringing her back to him, once he had everything figured out, once he'd learnt enough to make sense of everything. To let her slip through his claws by dying at Almedha's whims seemed to hit him as losing an opportunity, to let her go would be a temporary loss – he vowed that. His eyes fell upon the runes at his feet, gazing at it with veiled interest for Silmeria's benefit – for hers alone. Silmeria's dim and shadowed eyes suddenly lit up – rapt and at attention – tense as she waited, waited for any action that would free her, allowing her to flee. In that moment he truly felt every bit as damned as he was, the damned holding onto a precious piece of paradise, one wrongfully stolen that should be freed.

One rune disturbed that is all it took, his claws slipped over a single letter. The distorted symbol faltered and the entire trap fell to pieces. Silmeria lunged into action, pushing him back and vaulting into the air, wings of light expanding out of her back as she took to the air to go well beyond their reach. Almedha turned her eyes upon him, her lips curved as an almost palpable rage suffused their shared bond. Immediately he feigned an ignorance that he truly possessed, truthfully he hadn't thought it would be so easy to disturb the circle. Now the Valkyrie was free, he waited to see if Almedha would turn her newfound fury upon him but she didn't though she clearly put him at fault for the 'slip'.

"Almedha?"

"What?" her reply was curt, her tone acidic, layered in waves of anger.

"Is it possible to possess, to see the memories of others through the blood of a proxy, a substitute?"

Almedha gave him a level look, "It is…though it's not possible for the Valkyrie to do so…"

"Why?"

His dam's gaze fixed upon him, her tone blunt and to the point, "Because she would have to feed upon blood to do it, she would not do it, she'd not sully herself by doing that."

_So why was Astridr's memories found layered within the Valkyrie's blood?_

* * *

_Silmeria softly placed the palm of her hand over the soft hollow of her neck and shoulder, tracing the outline of the bite wound resting there, plain for all to see as she thought about who had inflicted it upon her. Never had she ever been made to suffer through something so humiliating, so infuriating, so erotic. Where the Hel did that last part come from? Though truthfully she had to acknowledge that some part of her, no matter how disgusting it was to admit to, had enjoyed his attentions. That human had drawn out more of those fleeting memories that plagued her from time to time. The last time she had wrestled with them had been years, centuries ago when she'd chosen an Einherjar – Vergil._

_Truthfully the memories had never given her reason to be bothered by them until now. At first she'd recognized him from the spiritual imprint he'd left on his blade. Her eyes instantly going to the blade still tied to her side. She'd recognized him from the vision she'd seen off his blade but the recognition got worse and went deeper yet. The memory of the delicate mother with her infant children was nothing new but the other, the one between the husband and his wife in her last moments – that was. Not only could she not make sense of the memories but they interposed themselves upon her at the most inopportune times. Some part of her had felt like her recognition of him went further than those broken memories and for him, she sensed, he felt likewise about her as absurd as that seemed._

_The entire attempt to defeat the undead had been totally disastrous from the beginning, not only had she been caught but several of her Einherjar had been subdued and taken by the undead. She intended to rescue them but she wouldn't do so anywhere NEAR Vytis. She heard the approach of Mithra through his meticulous and steady steps, mute and blind as his hands reached out to close over hers where the bite wound was. She didn't know why but for some stupid reason she waved his hands away. Some part of her wanted to say she didn't want him to waste his healing on her but deep down she knew she wanted to keep this scar, his mark. As much as she hated it he had stirred something in her to life AND saved her life, earning her grudging sense of gratitude…_

* * *

Betrayal tasted bitter in her mouth as she considered what happened between Brahms and the Valkyrie. He'd had made a good attempt at acting in discretion but was not fast enough yet, not nearly fast enough to hide his actions from a master of her age. Her sharp eyes had been able to pick up and take in the damning sight of his treachery, his sabotage of the trap she'd carefully laid for the Valkyrie. She didn't think, for one moment, that he'd done it out of kindness, almost utterly sure that the Valkyrie had manipulated him. A part of her should have been with him, inside his mind, to protect him from his own thoughts and the Valkyrie's insidious manipulations. There was no doubt in Almedha's mind that had she been present the Valkyrie wouldn't have taken any hold through which she could ply her wiles upon his mind in privacy. Brahms was still new to his existence, still grieving over his beloved; no doubt it made him susceptible to the very witch who looked like Lady Astridr so very much.

Part of her wondered what he'd seen in the Valkyrie's blood for him to immediately ask about the nuances of sharing blood memories. Her unease about the Valkyrie's influence on him had made her consider compelling him to disclose his personal account of the feeding or even to slack her curiosity by the direct approach of feeding on him. Both were extreme to consider so she left him be, it was considered uncouth to feed off of one's lessers without reason or invitation, neither was forthcoming where Brahms was concerned nor would she use compulsion yet. She needed to simply let it go and concentrate on what was important.

The next order of business was opening the gateway, she'd expended Hel's own loan of power in subduing the Valkyrie. Her failure to follow through with her appointed task would no doubt displease the goddess but she was fairly confident in her ability to open the gateway using the quintessence she'd leeched off of the Valkyrie alone but she'd not open it for the Dark Goddess. As she drew the runes anew and activated the spell, she wove her own web of control over the lesser undead. Almedha stepped forward and softly smiled at her fellow associates and allies, the rebels-in-arms They were the Royalists, undead willing to risk their hides to see themselves free of Nifleheim, for the mere chance at freedom and life upon Midgard. They were not her friends, never that but they were the supporters that would rival Hel's Loyalist armies and establish the dynasty that would give them new face, new purpose, and a new future…

* * *

They left Dipan behind, riding into the far west, upon the completion of Almedha's task for Hel he had insisted upon her divulging Astridr's location to him, upon handing his wife back into his own keeping. Although he'd already seen her safely removed to the new location through Almedha's memories he'd still not be satisfied until he saw Astridr's intact body for himself. Her resting place was far from their once native home of Crell Monferaigne in the Northeast, "So far away?"

"Of course…I couldn't leave her to be discovered. Her safety was dependent upon secrecy so I hid her far away from the eyes of all – mortal and undead alike. Of course the location grants other small boons and benefits, it is a good sanctuary and there is the shelter of caves and the barrier of water between here and the mainland – natural defenses."

"You sound like you are planning a war," he remarked wryly, upon crossing the channel by teleportation – a courtesy of Almedha's.

Almedha gave him a thin veiled smile, perfectly serene, revealing nothing and yet implying everything, "There is a great deal I am planning that you don't know, Lord Brahms."

"I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"You'll get used to it, soon you will realize the necessity of my actions, soon a great many will understand me and my efforts."

"Just take me to Astridr."

She inclined her head, "As you wish," she led him down into a dark cave. With the ball of blue flames in her hand the surroundings looked exactly as they had in Almedha's memories. Although the journey seemed so short by rote, by memory they could not progress fast enough for him, the descent into darkness seemed to take forever until finally the ground leveled out. The place was cold and desolate like a crypt, he stepped forward. Almedha saw to conjuring light around the chamber so that Astridr was finally revealed to him.

His crimson eyes grew ravenous in an instant, taking in every detail. Although she was obviously dead, resting upon a cold stone slab. Hel's magic had not failed nor faltered, Astridr was utterly untouched. Instantly he moved forward wanting to touch her, to know she was real but he paused just before he did so, careful and slow in his touches as if afraid she'd fall apart in his arms. Her skin was cold but he didn't care he brought her into his arms, breathing in the scent of her body. Then he pulled back and softly brought his lips against hers before laying her back down. He leaned down, placing his forehead softly against hers and stared at her, seeking comfort and solace in the mere presence of her flesh. Now he just needed to find her spirit, her soul, and he was only too sure that the Valkyrie Silmeria would hold the answers concerning the prize he sought.

* * *

The moment she'd brought Brahms to Astridr he could scarcely be parted from her remains. It was truly a testament of how much she meant that he was so relieved to see her body and so determined to see her live again even if it mean sacrificing everything of his own – his life, his humanity, his soul. Footsteps sounded behind her and she knew them, "In Dipan my blood was spilt," although Almedha was truly unscathed Sid'ren knew that she spoke of Brahms wounds. After turning him, after letting him feed upon her blood, for him to take wounds from the Valkyrie's blow before his first feeding meant he carried Almedha's blood, it meant Sid'ren had finally, at long last, failed in her duty just in time to free her to assume another…, " _Ghiada_ no more but I am not displeased by this turn of events, it gives us a unique and timely opportunity. Times are changing, the turbulent political tides are ever shifting, Sid'ren. I need you to lay your weapons to rest and protect Brahms in a different way, from the threats within our own race. The masters of our race will not like it that they have exchanged one chain for another especially once they realize it is to a fledgling but they will soon find that Brahms is a much kinder master than Hel. I do not need mention they will more readily accept him if he has a strong Queen at his back. I will rely upon you to guide and teach him in the way only a mate can."

Sid'ren paused as if in thought before she'd give Almedha's request a response in a slow and level tone, "It is evident enough for all to see in his actions that his heart belongs to his mortal wife even in death, Almedha. I cannot set myself up to be a victim of unrequited feelings nor will I set him up for enduring the lack of my own. If you want an arrangement, a beneficial alliance, that is fine but there will be nothing emotional, nothing binding between us."

"A Covenant then!"

Sid'ren sadly smiled, giving her blessing with silent words, "Let it be done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There will be a chapter in Valkyrie's Flight in which this chapter shall be utterly told from Silmeria's point of view, so that you can have her reactions. I am already anticipating that others will tell me that Astridr's blood is NOT Silmeria's blood. I know this, at this point Silmeria's Seal has already started to falter and fail (as can be seen in Valkyrie's Flight when its released) and thus Astridr's memories have started to escape the Seal and imprint anew upon Silmeria's blood.


	16. The Amaranth's Blessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In case any of you were at all wondering what happened to the kids, I wrote this brief, BRIEF epilogue of 545 words to address the ultimate fates of Vergil, Ismene, and Eldrene.

_Astridr's corpse was never found, her body vanished from the Lorraine estate and the truth of where her body was laid to rest went to the grave with the mortal death of Vytis. Vytis of Lorraine died mere days after his beloved but it was known to all that he'd been Valkyrie-favored from the plume she'd left upon his bodily remains. The young tragic couple died leaving only a legacy written of their blood in the wakes of their deaths. Out of respect for Astridr's sacrifice the three children were christened the 'Amaranth's Blessing' for indeed, to the kingdom of Crell Monferaigne they were a blessing to all._

_Vergil lived up to his namesake, flourishing in accordance to the blessing bestowed upon him at birth. With the death of his father he inherited the Duchy of Lorraine and became heir apparent to the throne. Vergil was a prodigy, he'd assume control of his inheritance, becoming Lord of Lorraine at age eleven and became King of Crell Monferaigne at the age of fourteen. His rule would be long and successful, everyone prospered during the reign of Vergil. Vergil married the Princess of Fraelgard, making his marriage one out of a triumvirate of marital alliances. His aim was to spread his blood across the continent of Midgard in order to gain valuable alliances to solidify his influence as a young King. To this end he was successful; his marriage lasted long and produced many children. His numerous children married into the noble houses of Crell Monferaigne where his blood would run strong throughout the ages._

_Ismene, as First Princess of Crell Monferaigne, was promised in troth to the King of Arkdain. Although the kingdom would later undergo such ruin that it collapsed into nothingness. Her three children would live on and later create three kingdoms out of the Southern expanse of the continent. Her eldest son would become King of Gerabellum and her youngest daughter, the Queen of Lassen, her middle son would move to Hai Lan, marrying a local woman, forsaking his royal heritage in pursuit of a love match._

_Eldrene, the Second Princess of Crell Monferaigne, grew and eventually married one of the many Princes of Flenceberg. Although the match was considered beneath her the marriage was arranged in such a way to lessen tension in relations between Flenceberg and Crell Monferaigne. Of the three siblings she produced the least, having a single daughter of her first marriage who was later betrothed to the Prince of Dipan. After the death of her first husband she remarried a second Prince and bore him a single son who'd marry within Flenceberg's nobility. Eldrene lived longer than either of her siblings, outliving them both. After the death of her brother she'd returned to the land of her birth and succeeded him as Queen of Crell Monferaigne. Prior to her death she stepped down, abdicating the throne in favor of her brother's progeny so that neither of her own children would be able to involve the foreign bloodlines of Dipan or Flenceberg in the dispute for Crell Monferaigne's throne. This decision was lauded in Crell Monferaigne but the decision to remove her own children from succession embittered them to such a degree that they left her to die alone._

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I know that their first sight idea of "love" is cliche but in my defense she is thirteen and he is nine almost ten! The both of them are children and thus hold a child's idea of love. She thinks a kind heart and desire equates to love and he thinks that a radiant beauty with pleasant personality equates to soul mate and partner. I hope to evolve their maturity through the use of this idea.


End file.
